Remember the Titans
by RobinRocks
Summary: The plot thickens as Robin, the Avenger, doesn’t know where to turn, Slade still has the Orb of Azarath and has sworn to kill the Titans, Raven is pregnant with a demon child, and just where do Terra and Azarathian Senator Seth Elliott fit into this?
1. Prologue: Raven's Point of View

PROLOGUE

Raven's Point of View

"There's no point in kidding myself; I am afraid.

I don't know what I am doing, nor do I know what to expect. Motherhood, I mean.

Even as I stand in front of my mirror and just stare at myself… place my fingertips on my swollen abdomen and feel the tiny kicking movements now so familiar to me…

It doesn't seem real. How can it be?

But it is.

I'm carrying Robin's baby, and after it is born it will be another whole new person, and another whole new responsibility.

I don't think Robin has quite grasped that yet. He's in denial. He avoids me. He's moody. I don't know what he's thinking, but it appears that he believes that by pretending it's not true it will suddenly go away.

It's times like this when I feel sorry for him.

It's not just his denial that I pity; somehow, I sense that he is just as afraid as _I_ am.

But I think our fears are different. His are easy enough to decipher; he's scared of the responsibility of parenthood, he's scared of what this will do to the reputation of the Teen Titans, and he's scared of what Bruce will say – and do – when he finally gets around to telling him.

Mine, I suppose, are a little more complicated. I worry about the baby, of course, and if it's okay, and I worry about giving birth.

But I also worry about its heritage; it will be the grandchild of Trigon, and the adopted-grandchild of the Batman, not to mention the child of Robin and _me_, Trigon's daughter.

It's not going to be… _normal_…

And… there are _other_ things that I have yet declined to tell Robin.

Things that I fear could change this whole situation…

…Uncertainly for better or worse…"


	2. Prodigal Phantasm

Any new readers I might have picked up… In danger of scaring you away, _Remember the Titans_ is the third part of a trilogy, coming after _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_ (which can both be found on my profile). If you want to have any hope at all of understanding this fic, you will _have_ to read them or you just won't understand a thing.

…And there they all go, running over the horizon to find a nice simple one-shot…

To all who have been waiting… enjoy!

Prodigal Phantasm

_Azarath is a place of peace and hope; of love and forgiveness; of prayer and compassion. _

_Built on these foundations, Azarath has no need for heroes._

_Of heroes, there has only been one._

_Some call her Arella, sent by Azar; others believe that she was Azar herself in human form._

"_Arella" means "messenger angel"._

_Over seven hundred years ago, she saved Azarath from a terrible evil that consumed it from within; monstrous power untold, that slaughtered and massacred countless lives just to prove its supremacy._

_Until this goddess; this **warrior** came, and she tore that power away and sealed it with a prophecy she never intended to be fulfilled._

_She christened the vessel the "Orb of Azarath" and locked it with a key and a prophecy._

_The prophecy demanded a Summoner._

_And a sacrifice._

_She ruled Azarath, then took her leave when it had flourished._

_She never came back, but by that point, her people did not mind._

_Azarath has no need for heroes._

_Even though great evil has been born into their midst, they do not pray for a saviour._

_Trigon is an entirely different matter._

_But Seth Elliott—_

_The cataclysm thunders ever closer._

_The one Child of Azar who tried to stop him was murdered for his trouble; Jonathon Vaughan tried to be a hero when Azarath has no **want** for them._

_Until now._

_The one known as the Avenger is a phantasmal creature; a mere mortal with a destiny too big and too heavy for him._

_Richard Grayson may fight a meaningless war, but his destiny is entwined with Azarathian lore, buried long ago and loathe to be fulfilled._

_Arella. Azar. Whoever she was, she never meant for this to happen._

_She never meant for it all to go **right**._

_Azarath has no need for heroes._

_Something which Marcus Vandiver no longer believes as he stands at the window of his office in the Senate House; the office that was once Seth Elliott's._

_Azarath is a place of peace and serenity._

_But that does not mean it does not have storms._

**

* * *

**

Watching lightning crack the sky in two, Marcus Vandiver said nothing as he heard the door to his office creak open.

He did not turn around, because he knew he would again be heartbroken to discover that it was not Jonathon.

The pain was still openly raw; Jonathon had met his end at Seth Elliott's murderous hand not even a week ago.

Once the Head Senator of the Azarathian Senate, Seth had betrayed them that same time ago; or, as Marcus now realised, he had never been on their side in the first place.

For the past sixteen and a half years, he had been manipulating the Senate's every move.

And when Jonathon had figured him out, Seth had killed him.

It had seemed the only way of silencing him.

At night, Marcus was not sure of the reasons he cried; Jonathon Vaughan had been his best friend, yet he could have been _more_.

They had kissed.

Just once, and at the height of an argument – and, incidentally, one over Robin's life – they had kissed.

Oh yes, they could have been _so much more_…

"Marcus?"

In the reflection in the dark window, Marcus saw Arella Roth step partway into the room.

Sweet mortal Angela Roth, named "Arella" after that heroic goddess; Angela Roth, of Gotham City, and mother of Raven.

Poor, poor Raven; wretched on so many counts.

Arella, having gained Marcus' previous place as Vice-Head Senator, still felt unworthy of the position; a position that should, in reality, have been Jonathon's. And Marcus…

He was only Head Senator by default; because he had been Vice-Head Senator and, with Seth's departure, had automatically been elevated to the top position.

It brought him no joy.

On the contrary, the Head Senator's heart was heavy.

All that he had learned this past week distressed him immensely, and he was unsure if he had the means and power to prevent everything from happening.

Oh, he knew what Seth was doing now. He knew what Jonathon had known; he knew what had gotten Jonathon killed.

On that front, Marcus was not worried; although it was definitely within Seth's power to kill him too, he knew he was in no danger.

Seth was too busy now, working on a tight schedule; as though he would waste time returning to Azarath to taunt and toy with Marcus as he had done with Jonathon.

Seth probably _knew_ he knew, but did not concern himself.

Which only caused to worry Marcus more.

He knew the reason for Seth's confidence was because he was so near to his goal; and time was fast running out for those who might wish to stop him.

Over Jonathon's body – found on the floor of the Senate House Library with his own heart ripped out of his chest and clutched in his cold hand – Marcus had sworn to stop Seth.

But it was not that simple.

As it had been so right from the very start, everything rested on the shoulders of one person.

A teenaged human boy.

They called him Robin; and one way or another – despite the lies and fabrications – he was going to save the world.

"You may come in, Arella," Marcus said finally, his voice quiet.

Arella – dressed in white hooded robes – came all the way into the room and closed the door behind her.

For a long while, there was silence; broken by thunder and the pounding of the rain.

"Marcus-" Arella finally started again.

"If this is about your daughter, Arella…"

"What are you going to do?" Arella asked softly, approaching his desk. "We cannot do… _nothing_…"

Marcus watched her reflection.

"You speak of her unsettling pregnancy."

"Yes." She bowed her head. "I understand that some prophecies cannot be averted. I know what she was born for, but _this_… _This_ was never meant to happen. You _know_ it wasn't. Azar help me, Trigon has already…"

The woman took a deep breath.

"I will not allow Seth to harm her as well," she finished. "Please, we must do something."

"I do not know if we _can_, Arella."

"But you…" Arella pulled down her hood and leaned over the desk. "Through dreams, meditation… you have sought so much this past week, and you have _learned_ so much. Why, this time last week, when Raven, the Avenger and her other three friends left this dimension to return to Earth after the exorcism of the demon… we had no idea of what Seth was up to, or what his motives are. We had no idea that my daughter… was…"

"Pregnant." Marcus' tone was blunt. "I know."

Arella put her head in her hands.

"After what happened to me… I was barely seventeen when…"

"It is not Raven's fault. And before you condemn the boy, it is not his fault either."

Arella looked up angrily.

"Then whose fault _is_ it?"

"Arella, you must not blame them. It is easy to point the finger at Robin, but you must remember… how he was when…"

"Yes, he was possessed by a demon," Arella finished coldly. "Are you trying to say he impregnated my daughter with a _monster_?"

"I could not call it a monster as of yet, but the child she carries… nor is it _normal_…"

Arella looked terrified.

"Then it must be destroyed," she said firmly. "Azar damn it, Marcus; Raven has suffered since her very birth, and she has enough looming over her head as it is… I will not allow _this_ to befall her too because her team-mate couldn't control himself—"

"Arella, your thoughts are reckless," Marcus snapped. "Again I press that you still have much to learn of our ways – I appreciate that you were not born into this world, but such prodigal vows are wasteful in this situation. I am afraid that, no matter how much we know, there is, for the moment, _nothing_ we can do."

"Then what do you suggest? That we just sit here and allow Seth to—"

"Arella, calm yourself!" Marcus interrupted, looking over his shoulder at her. "Yes, I regret to say that, for now, we must allow Seth to play out his plans. It's the only way to stop him."

"I thought you said you knew what he was planning?"

"I do." Marcus gave a little nod. "But I do not know how he is going to do it. I cannot foresee the future. Arella, I know this is difficult for you, but we _must_ wait."

"Do you know what he is going to do next?"

"I have a pretty good idea." Marcus dipped his head. "And it pains me that I must allow it to happen when it defies Azar's way so perversely…"

Arella sat on the edge of the desk and clasped her hands.

"Has this become a war, Marcus?" She asked quietly. "There just seems to be so many parties involved. The Azarathian Senate, the Teen Titans, Seth Elliott, and the two going on the offensive towards the Titans from the other side…"

"The one they call Slade, and his apprentice; the geomancer, Terra." Marcus gave a little shiver. "Somewhere along the line, Arella, everything fits together. Slade and Terra are as involved in this as any of us; I just feel that they are ignorant of the most important facts. That, and the fact that they are both being blindly led…"

"By a seer who seems to know more than our _own_ soothsayer."

Marcus sighed.

"I admit that Cordelia Silver had yet to prove her worth. Her prophetic abilities have been very limited… As has her presence, actually…"

"My daughter did not trust her." Arella looked piercingly at Marcus. "And neither do I."

"Your daughter does not trust many people. Perhaps, in _her_ position, it is wise for her to do so. But I would not follow Raven's example, Arella."

"She has been no good to us!" Arella spat.

"Our numbers are down since Jonathon's murder and Seth's departure," Marcus replied in a steely tone. "To dismiss her would be a foolish—"

"Marcus, I just want to save my daughter," Arella interrupted desperately. "Please. It is agonizingly to just sit here when—"

"_We_ can do _nothing_. I will not tell you again." Marcus stared intently out of the window. "Arella, despite your love for your daughter, you underestimate her. You underestimate the _boy_."

"Robin?" Arella actually snorted. "He is a mortal, like me. What hope can he have of—?"

"A mortal he may be, but he is not weak. Believe in him; and believe in Raven. The time will come for us to play our parts, but we must wait. We do not have every piece of the puzzle; we must wait for Seth to play his hand first."

Marcus clenched his fists.

"He _will_ be stopped. Both he and the one they call Slade will be _stopped_. I swear this upon Azar's blood…"

"And the child?" Arella asked. "What of the child Raven carries within her womb?"

"_We_ do not have the power to destroy it."

Arella was taken aback.

"The _Senate_ cannot-?"

"Arella… Angela… It has long since been known that Azarath has no need or want for heroes… But the Earth… the _Earth_ does…"

Arella joined him at the window, worriedly biting her pale lip; Marcus turned to her and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"…And the Earth _has_ them."

* * *

To everyone I told that _Remember the Titans_ would be going up on 3rd October… I did not technically lie to you. This chapter and the previous one have been… well, we'll call it "setting the stage". The previous was the prologue, and this… 

…Is an "introductory chapter". Just getting you all back into the flow and establishing a few things.

Whee, it's going to be a fun and dandy ride!

And oh, the irony; today is 1st October. I still have very vivid memories of 1st October _last_ year. Last year, on 30th September, two things happened – it was my friend's birthday party, and I also received my first ever eBay purchase: _Teen Titans _Season Four on DVD (it's bootleg, don't ask…). It was before Season Four had been shown on British Cartoon Network, so as you can probably guess I was very excited.

After my friend's party I came home and _watched the lot_. All 14 episodes in one go, plus _The Lost Episode_, which was also on there. Watching a marathon of _Teen Titans_ isn't too bad if you have seen them before, but believe me, when it's your first time seeing those episodes and you watch them all in one go, and Season Four has a very dark, intense storyline, plus bearing in mind it is a very bright and bubbling cartoon…

It's not good for you. It really isn't. I didn't sleep that night at all.

And so, the next day (1st October) I was utterly _trashed_. I was walking around like a zombie with all these vivid pictures in my head… _Stranded_ particularly affected me, for some reason… I really didn't feel so great that day.

_Sooo_… the lesson is that too much _Teen Titans_ **is** bad for you.

But please ignore that health-warning and read my fic!

It's just ironic that I am technically "commemorating" that day…

_Remember the Titans_ will officially start on 3rd October, as promised – that's not too long to wait!

TTYS!

RobinRocks xXx


	3. Harbinger

Well, here we are! The first official chapter of _Remember the Titans_; the third and final part of my uber long and complicated _Teen Titans_ trilogy. I thank you for being so patient, and especially thank and wish to hug those for whom this is their second time returning (i.e. You've been here right from _Asylum_). But a huge welcome to **EVERYONE**, new or old hands, and I only hope this meets your expectations (whatever they may be; sure, there must be some people who are only here to laugh…). I hope the brief Prologue and introductory/recap chapter, _Prodigal Phantasm_, helped bring you back up to speed so that we can just go plunging straight in head first.

And I do mean "head-first". Too much of _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_ was setting the scene – here, we go hand-to-hand with some major issues pretty much straight away.

For the most part, the Teen Titans, particularly Robin and Raven, are in pretty serious trouble; and it's only going to get worse.

But you knew that.

That's why you're here; to see them suffer.

Well, I will have more to say at the bottom; but for now, I will not delay you any further.

Only to say this – thanks to you all, _Black Magic_ racked up the Grand Total of **421** reviews, beating its predecessor _Asylum_ by some 300 reviews. I don't expect this to beat _Black Magic_ by 300, reviews, but let's see if we can get past that 421 mark! Whoo! We're on 11 so far, which isn't bad considering some of my regular reviewers seem to be AWOL at the moment.

Actually, I lie – I will delay you for a moment more;

To dedicate this chapter to **Flying Fish**, who made a trailer for _Black Magic_; a change from a music video, it looks like a real movie trailer, with overlapping dialogue and everything! It is superb and you can find a link to it on my profile (right at the top). Check it out, it's not very long – no longer than two minutes, anyway. It's great, seriously!

**Big thankyou to Flying Fish**; and _everyone_!

Now let's get it on!

Harbinger

"What's that you're readin', Robbie?"

Robin looked up sceptically at Cyborg over the top of his newspaper; the half-robot was cooking breakfast at the grill but was waiting for the eggs to fry, and so had curbed his boredom by asking Robin stupid questions.

"A newspaper, Cy," the Boy Wonder replied flatly, holding it up slightly so that Cyborg could see it, just in case he wasn't fully satisfied with his friend's answer.

Cyborg scowled.

"I can see that, Robin."

"Then why did you ask?" Robin didn't wait for the answer as he went back to his article, toying absently with the red jewel on its silver chain hanging at his neck.

The Blood Diamond, given to him by Seth Elliott during his time in Azarath.

"I meant the thing you are _actually_ reading."

"Oh." Robin frowned at it. "Just an article about LexCorp…"

"Lex Luthor?"

"The very same."

"So you haven't read the front page?"

Robin shook his head.

"Should I have?" He asked distantly, still immersed in what reporters Lois Lane and Clark _(coughSupermancough)_ Kent had to say about LexCorp's latest project.

"Well, it might interest you, Batboy…" Cyborg replied pointedly.

Robin closed the newspaper and smoothed out the front page so that he could read it. As it turned out, he didn't need to _read_ it; there was a huge photograph of Batman adorning it.

"_Batman still with hands full following Arkham breakout in Gotham three weeks ago_…" Robin read, a frown on his face. "_'Gotham City's own Dark Knight has been running from Gotham to Jump to Metropolis and even beyond, rounding up those who escaped during the shut-down at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane just over three weeks ago. Though he has enlisted the help of Superman of Metropolis and the Justice League, the task is still proving to be a difficult and lengthy process. Criminals still at large include the Riddler, the Scarecrow, Bane, Two-Face, Killer Croc and Jump City criminal Johnny Rancid; however, sources inform us that Gotham City's most dangerous and infamous criminal the Joker aka Jack Napier is safely behind bars, along with fellow havoc-wreakers the Penguin, the Mad Hatter, the Ventriloquist and Harley Quinn…'_"

Robin paused and looked up at Cyborg, who nodded, encouraging him to continue;

"'_Criminal records for Edward Nygma, Jonathon Crane, "Killer Croc" Morgan, Harvey Dent, "Bane", Oswald Cobblepot, Jervis Tetch, Arnold Wesker, Jonathon Rancid and Harleen Quinzel, among others, are, however, reported to be missing since the breakout, when the record vault was ransacked during the break-out. Of all the escaped criminals, only Jack Napier's is still in its rightful place. Any information on these missing records or the escaped criminals themselves will be greatly welcomed by the Gotham City Police Department. If you think you can help please do not hesitate to call the GCPD's hotline on 0870-900-2050…'_"

Robin trailed off in his narrative and looked up at Cyborg again.

"Guess that's where your pointy-eared pal has been for the past month," Cyborg acknowledged with a shrug. "That's why Raven couldn't get hold of him to help with that exorcism spell to get the demon out of you back in Azarath…"

Robin nodded, looking back at the article. Reading further down, it was apparent that the GCPD still had no idea who had actually broken into Arkham Asylum those weeks back.

But Robin knew, the Titans knew, and the Boy Wonder had a feeling that somehow Batman knew too.

_Slade_.

But the missing files… had Slade taken them? What would he want with them?

Robin thought back to that terrible night in the asylum, when Slade had… _raped_ him to initiate a prophecy; to take his virginity and make him impure, as the prophecy had ordered. He had run from Slade… and had ended up in the record vault. There he had found the Orb of Azarath, and had learned of the prophecy and his role in it.

That Slade, with the murder of the tainted Robin, would harness untold power held within that small stone orb; because Robin was the "Avenger" – one born to save the world. And the powers of all other super-powered beings – known collectively and rather poetically as the "mortal gods" – would be lost upon Robin's death, so there would no-one else left to fight.

Robin had given up questioning the reality of all of this long ago.

And… yes… he remembered that the vault had been ransacked, obviously by Slade; but Slade had only been looking for _the Joker's_ file, so that he could find out what cell he was in. What would he have wanted with Harley Quinn's, or the Penguin's, or Two-Face's? Had _Slade_ truly taken them?

Or had someone else?

"So, he was in Jump, huh?" Cyborg asked breezily, snapping Robin out of his reverie.

The Boy Wonder shrugged.

"Guess so. Can't say I noticed."

"No, me neither. You'd think _someone_ would have noticed, though. A guy dressed like a giant bat? Not exactly common around here. The closest thing we got to Batman is _you_, Robbie, and while you're named after a bird, you're not exactly sporting feathers."

"Yeah, I suppose he _does_ take it a bit literally…"

Robin looked lazily at the newspaper again, not seeing anything else worthy of his interest. What got him more was the fact that Batman hadn't called him or the Titans up to help him out. Although, if he remembered correctly, they had been in Azarath for quite a while. Maybe Batman had called then, and hadn't been able to get hold of him?...

"You know where the others are?"

Again Cyborg's voice cutting into his chain of thoughts made Robin jump.

"Sorry?"

"The others," Cyborg repeated. "Do you know what's keeping them? I called for Star and B.B ten minutes ago. Remember, when I asked you to watch the bacon and when I came back you were still readin' that dumb paper and had let my bacon burn? _How_ you didn't notice the smoke fillin' the kitchen still beats me, Robin…"

Robin grinned guiltily; _he_ didn't know how the smoke alarms going off had failed to capture his attention either, but he had been somewhat immersed in the LexCorp article.

Cyborg tapped the spatula on the sideboard impatiently.

"Jeez, _what_ is keeping them?"

"Did you call Raven?" Robin asked nonchalantly, picking up a pen that was lying abandoned on the table and starting to draw a curly-q moustache on the picture of Batman. "She might have been meditating and didn't hear you."

"Yeah, I called her," Cyborg replied. "And she heard me. She was in the bathroom… don't tell her I said this, but… I think she was being sick."

"Oh?"

_Hmm, how strange. I wonder why that could be… _

Robin didn't look up, instead making Batman's moustache more and more elaborate until it was ridiculously huge and cartoon-like.

"Yeah, I…" Cyborg folded his arms, still holding the spatula. "I yelled through the door if she was okay, and she just… well, she came to the bathroom door with her hood up but she looked terrible even underneath it, and she started ranting at me to mind my own business and why was everyone spying on her and I dunno what else, so I just kind of edged away and she slammed the door again. I dunno what's up with her lately. She doesn't eat at all, she's even more irritable and moody than usual, she's constantly got her hood up, and I swear that's not the first time I've heard her being sick… Robin?"

"Mm?" Robin still didn't look up, instead chewing the end of the pen as he tried to think of something else to add to Batman; the guy already looked like an OTT stereotypical French waiter.

"Are you listening?"

"Sure. Raven's acting weirder than usual. I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Yeah? Robin, I'm concerned about her. You think… maybe she's…?"

Robin looked up sharply.

"She's _what?_" He pressed, his stomach clenching.

"I dunno… bulimic or something? I mean, she doesn't eat much at all, and she keeps being sick…"

Robin breathed out an imperceptible sigh of relief at Cyborg's assumption – _so_ far off the mark.

_Oh Cy, how wonderfully, immensely wrong you are…_

"What?"

Robin blinked and frowned.

"Hmm?"

"I meant what was up with you."

Robin was confused.

"I… I didn't say anything. Did I?" He sincerely hoped he hadn't voiced that thought without realising.

"No. You were smirking at me."

"Oh. Sorry."

Cyborg eyed him sceptically.

"Were you smirking at _me_… or something else?"

"Oh…" Robin quickly snatched up the paper and showed Cyborg his graffitied mentor. "I was smirking at _this_. What do you think?"

Cyborg burst out laughing.

"It suits him!"

"Yeah, I thought so…" Although he had gotten out of that one, Robin still felt uncomfortable. He should probably go and see Raven, seeing as it was due to him that she was throwing up in the first place…

However, despite being both the reason she was pregnant and the father of her child, he would probably get the same treatment as Cyborg. Maybe worse, if she was feeling particularly vengeful and holding him responsible for her plight.

"Do you want me to go and find them?" He asked suddenly, getting up.

"Would you?" Cyborg sounded grateful for the offer, not realising he had just handed the Boy Wonder a way out of an awkward situation.

"Sure." Robin made for the door, his necklace swaying to and fro across his chest.

"Breakfast'll be ready in five, 'kay? Make sure _you_ come back, too," Cyborg called as the Boy Wonder sauntered out of the kitchen.

As it turned out, Robin didn't have to look too far for Beast Boy; the shape-shifter was coming the other way, carrying the post.

"Hey, Robin," the green boy greeted him brightly. "Post's in."

"I gathered that, Beast Boy," Robin replied mildly, a faint smile playing across his mouth.

"Well, it's not fair," Beast Boy went on. "You and Cy always get _way_ more post than the rest of us."

"We have subscriptions to things, Beast Boy."

"Tch, yeah. _Detective Monthly_. _Lame_."

"Cyborg gets _Car Monthly_."

"Same thing, just with cars no-one cares about instead of detectives no-one cares about."

"Well, why don't _you_ subscribe to _Vegetarian Monthly?_" Robin asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Beast Boy seemed not to notice, as he was sorting through the pile of letters in his arms.

"Well, here's your stupid magazine…"

Beast Boy dumped the latest issue of _Detective Monthly_ wrapped in its clear postal bag – this month's cover paying homage to, of all people, Inspector "Pink Panther" Clueso – and then Beast Boy placed something else on top of the magazine. The second item, however, was small and barely weighed anything at all.

A free sample sachet of a new variety of mustard.

"Beast Boy, I-" Robin started.

"It came in the mailbox this morning," Beast Boy interrupted. "Give it to Star when you see her."

At once understanding became clear.

"Oh. Okay." It figured. "Breakfast is ready. Go to the kitchen before Cyborg cries. Or throws something. Fingers crossed for the non-violent option."

Beast Boy grinned and made off towards the kitchen carrying the rest of the mail; two letters and Cyborg's latest edition of _Car Monthly_.

Robin went to the elevator, having to perform a balancing act as he punched in the top floor button while holding onto his mail in the other hand. The elevator moved up to the highest floor of Titans Tower and the door opened; Starfire sprang at him, making him jump and almost drop it all anyway.

"Greetings and salutations, Robin!" The alien girl cried happily, as he struggled to hold onto his magazine and sachet of mustard. "I am hopeful that this morning finds you well?"

"Yeah, fine, I'm ok," Robin answered in his usual deadpan American slang, quite unlike Starfire's grammatically correct English. "Something came for you in the mail."

"Oh, joy of joys!" Starfire was ecstatic. "It has been too long since I received the post. Perhaps it is from my dear sister Blackfire."

"I don't think our mailman delivers stuff from the Centauri Moon System, Star. 'Sides, she's not your "dear" sister; she's a calculating witch," Robin pointed out.

"I still love her. She is my _sister_."

"Yeah."

_Shame it's not a mutual feeling, then_…

"Anyway, here's your mail, Star." He handed her the sachet of mustard.

"Oh, serendipity!" Starfire cried happily, clutching the tiny sachet so tightly to her chest Robin feared that she was going to burst it. He did _not_ want to start out his Friday covered in mustard.

"Oh, thankyou, Robin!" Starfire beamed, now rubbing the sachet against her cheek. Robin raised an eyebrow.

"Uh… you're welcome."

_I wonder if those free sachets of mustard have brought this much joy to anyone else…_

Somehow, he doubted it. But then, this was Starfire. She was sweet and naïve and innocent and found beauty in everything.

Even mustard.

"Star, you should go downstairs," Robin told her as she started to fling the sachet into the air and catch it again, laughing gleefully.

"Why is that, Robin?"

"Because Cyborg's gonna go nuts if you don't," Robin reasoned. "He called you ten minutes ago. What have you been doing?"

"Well, first I sang the ancient Tamaranean song of Morning Joy. Would you like to hear it?"

"No." He hadn't meant it to sound so abrupt, but as much as he loved Star, he didn't love her songs. Or her cooking. Or her weird Tamaranean custom of licking the side of his face when he was least expecting it, thoroughly grossing him out.

Starfire seemed crestfallen.

"Oh."

"Maybe some other time, Star," Robin added hurriedly, pushing her in the direction of the elevator. "Go on, go downstairs before Cy really loses it."

"But Robin, surely you will be joining us for breakfast?" Starfire appeared confused at why he wasn't getting back into the elevator himself.

"Yeah, I just wanna chuck this stuff in my room," Robin replied, gesturing to his mail. "And I gotta get Raven."

"Raven is in the bathroom," Starfire informed him, fidgeting with her mustard sachet.

Robin blinked.

"_Still?_"

Starfire nodded, her green eyes wide.

"Yes, I do not think that poor Raven is feeling very alright."

"Very _well_, Star," Robin corrected almost absently. He looked down the corridor, frowning at the closed bathroom door. "Ok, I'll go see her."

"Robin, I do not think that is a very wise idea." Starfire sounded almost frightened now as she grasped his free wrist. "I wished only to console and sympathise with my dear friend Raven, but she was very angry at me and she shouted and…"

Robin stiffened indiscernibly.

"And _what?_"

"She started crying." Again Starfire's mood seemed to shift so that she now seemed merely upset. "She was shouting at me to leave her alone and then she suddenly exploded into tears."

"_Burst_ into tears, Starfire."

"Yes." Starfire was nodding vigorously. "Yes, that is exactly what she did. And I could hear things smashing in the bathroom and she just shut the door… Oh, Robin, I am so worried about her." Starfire played absently with Robin's fingers until he pulled his hand away, irritated. Starfire looked up at him, and he saw tears shining in her large green eyes. "Robin, what do you think is wrong with her? She is acting so… strangely. This is not the Raven we know; surely you have noticed her strange behaviour also?"

"Well…"

Robin pretended to think very hard about it, when in fact he was just desperate to get away from Starfire and see Raven himself.

"I guess she _has_ been acting a little weirder than usual," he said slowly. "But I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"But-" Starfire started.

"Star, I'll talk to her, ok?" Robin promised wearily; even just _talking_ to Starfire was very tiring sometimes. "Just take your beloved mustard and go downstairs."

She didn't notice the irritated underlay in his voice as he gave her the order; she merely beamed as though he had said something humorous and complied with his wishes. He felt guilty as he sighed with relief to be rid of her, but he had come to the conclusion that some days he loved being with the alien girl and would gladly be handcuffed to her, and other days he just didn't have the energy to talk to her. Today, Friday 29th September, seemed to be one of those days.

Was it _still_ only September? It had been a very long month, what with that whole Arkham Asylum thing and then him getting possessed and them all going to Azarath, and then to crown it all Raven announcing to him that she was pregnant, and then of course there was the prophecy and the Orb of Azarath and Slade and that damned Ex-Head of the Azarathian Senate, Seth Elliott…

And of course, August had been busy too, taken up by the "Joker Incident"; Gotham City Clock Tower was still recovering. June and July had been pretty quiet, in all fairness, with just the annual 4th July celebrations and the usual havoc-wreakers – the likes of the Amazing Mumbo, Control Freak, the Hive, Atlas, Killer Moth and the rest of the Jump City Villainous "In" crowd – causing trouble making the months slightly exciting. Before that had been May, and with it had come the return of Poison Ivy, the near-death of the Boy Wonder and the reunion of the Dynamic Duo, as well as the Titans' first introduction to Terra. April preceding brought the word "apprentice" to mind, as indeed that month had heralded the entrance of Red X and the consequential trapping of a songbird in a net of blackmail and deceit by Slade.

And March?

Robin's sixteenth birthday.

Sixteen years to the day Seth Elliott had been appointed Head Senator of the Azarathian Senate.

Robin was more aware than ever of the Blood Diamond at his neck as he made his way down the corridor towards the bathroom. He had always seen Slade as his greatest threat, especially since learning of the prophecy; now he wasn't so sure if _Slade_ was the one he should be worried about.

His sixteenth birthday hadn't been big; it had been fun, but it had hardly been a 4th July-type street party. Just the five of them with cake and soda and junk food and balloons and streamers and presents. Typical birthday stuff. He'd enjoyed it, and enjoyed the fuss, but it hadn't been that big a deal.

Now he seemed to get the feeling that it had been more important than he or his friends had realised. But it had been six months ago; he was sixteen and a half now. If Robin's sixteenth birthday had had anything to do with whatever Seth was planning, then the guy had missed the bus.

He held his post to his chest with one hand, knocking on the bathroom door with the other.

"Raven?"

Nothing.

"_Raven?_" He tried again, knocking harder. Still only ominous silence met his ears. "Raven, are you ok?"

He tried the bathroom door, to no avail; it was locked. But leaning against it, he established that if Raven was even in there, she was keeping very quiet, probably because she did not want to be interrogated by him.

Worried as he was, he could respect that. Shoulders slumped, he wandered away in the direction of his room. Once there he entered and made for his desk, where he casually tossed his magazine onto the surface. With a sigh he went to the doorway again, the hunger he had felt ten minutes ago when in the kitchen now quelled. He stopped at the doorway, one hand on the frame, and…

His wrist was itchy again; he scratched it distractedly, then lifted the green material of his glove to get a look at the thing.

The tiny "A" was still there, scraped into the milky-pale skin of his wrist.

A for Avenger.

As if he needed _reminding_.

This was Cordelia Silver's idea of a "message" – she had cornered him on the first morning of her appointment as a senator and not only passed on a series of disturbing images in the _absolute_ grossest way _ever_; but when he had awoken from _that_ funk, he had found _this_ scratched into his wrist. It was small and shallow and the lines were thin, as though it had been done with a needle.

It had started to scab over by now and itched like crazy.

He suddenly turned, pressing the button at his doorway and sliding the panel shut behind him as he did so. He made for his bed purposefully, sitting on it and sliding his hand underneath. He fished out a cardboard box and placed it on his lap; removing the lid, he took out the item he had wrapped in brown paper. He slipped the paper off and crumpled it in his hand; revealing the shining, glinting Blade of Azar he had taken from Azarath only the week before.

The beautiful weapon – made of pure silver, decorated with a dragon coiling around the hilt with eyes of glimmering rubies – that Seth Elliott had stabbed Arella through the shoulder with on the night of Jonathon's murder.

_This_ was so much more than evidence.

Because Robin had his suspicions that Seth… physically couldn't _touch_ this knife.

Bruce had taught him well.

But Bruce was in the dark concerning the prophecy, Robin remembered. Why, he didn't even know that within the last week his ex-ward had been possessed and had briefly become a fully-fledged demon, nor was he aware of the Teen Titans' trip to Raven's homeworld of Azarath. He didn't know about the "Avenger", he didn't know about Seth Elliott, and he most _certainly_ didn't know he was going to be a grandfather…

_Add to To-Do List; have a heart to heart with Bruce. Spare nothing. And, if at all possible, get very drunk beforehand, so that you'll be blissfully unaware that he is throttling you…_

He sighed heavily, the knife in one gloved hand, the fingers of his other twisting his necklace absently. He was really not looking forward to telling Bruce about that last part. The rest he could cope with – he wouldn't even have to mention the rape in Arkham, because he knew that Bruce "Just-Call-Me-Sherlock" Wayne had already figured that part out. And all the Azarath stuff; Seth Elliott and his expendable knowledge of just about everything, the murder of senator Jonathon Vaughan, the prophecy, the orb, the Avenger, the mortal gods… he would have one hell of a sore throat by the time he had finished explaining, but he didn't have a problem with it.

The thing that made his voice dry up, the thing that made him feel sick and weak every time he thought about it – which, incidentally, was quite often – the thing that he kept trying to convince himself wasn't real…

Raven was carrying his child, and as the week had worn on, he had become increasingly unnerved.

He would have been freaked anyway, of course, what with the inevitable having-to-tell-Bruce-at-some-point, but there was something else about this pregnancy that got to him; he just couldn't place his finger on it. He didn't know quite what it was that gave him the heebie-jeebies every time he looked in Raven's direction, but he had noticed that she was acting strangely towards him. She was distant when she spoke to him – if she even spoke to him at all, as she had taken to ignoring him – she avoided him and he had noticed that her cloak was always wrapped firmly around her form. _That_ puzzled him; he didn't know too much about pregnant women, having never known one, but he was pretty sure that the bump didn't start to show until at least the fourth month, possibly the fifth. But Raven was hiding from all four of her team-mates – even _him_, which he didn't understand; after all, it was _his_ baby – as though she was seven or eight months pregnant, instead of a mere week. Maybe she was just building up a pretence, so that when she really _did_ need to hide her swollen stomach it would not cause too much suspicion? But even with that theory in mind, it did not satisfactorily explain why Raven was acting so distantly towards him. Almost as though she didn't want to talk to him; which, ok, if she was feeling under the weather due to her pregnancy, he could appreciate, but if that was the case, why not just _tell_ him to leave her alone? Why was she… _hiding_ from him?

It all just added to the general feeling of uneasiness he got whenever he thought of his unborn child safely inside Raven's womb. He didn't know what it was, but he couldn't shake off the feeling he had gotten the very night she had told him the "wonderful" news; that the baby, as Raven had put it, was going to be "very special".

And that, as he clearly remembered thinking in response, was what worried him. "Special" wasn't the term he would apply to whatever he had impregnated Raven with; "abnormal" seemed more fitting. The thing that kept coming back to him was the fact that _he_ had been possessed that night he had knocked her up – he really couldn't think of any other way to put it without getting too technical – and _she_ was the daughter of a demon named Trigon. _That_ couldn't be a good combination. Even if his possession had not affected the child and the genes it had gained from _him_ were purely human, it was _still_ a quarter demon, no matter which way you looked at it. If the baby had been conceived that _first_ night, the night before he had almost died by Poison Ivy's green hand, it would still be a quarter demon. Of course, had it been _Starfire_ instead that he had impregnated, the child would be half-Tamaranean, but somehow the thought of a half-alien baby did not unnerve him as much as a quarter demon one did.

_Or three-quarter_…

"_ROBIN!_ GET YOUR SPANDEX-COVERED ASS DOWN HERE _RIGHT NOW!_"

Robin jumped violently, almost dropping the knife, as the sound of an irate Cyborg bellowing up the stairs at him snapped him out of his uneasy reverie. He leapt up, hastily shoving the knife and its brown paper back into the box and stowing it back under his bed. He'd forgotten that he was supposed to go down for breakfast…

He reached his door and jabbed the button, sliding the metal panel back. He was about to pound out into the hallway but the sight of Raven standing in his doorway made him stop in his tracks; he merely blinked at her.

"You hear Cy too?" He asked weakly.

Raven didn't answer for a few seconds, merely watching him from beneath the shadow of her hood, her cloak drawn tightly around her.

"I can't hide it from you anymore," she said eventually, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Not at the rate it's growing…"

She sounded distracted as she pushed past him into his room, even as he objected;

"Raven, what… _at the rate it's growing?_ What are you…?"

"Shut the door, Robin."

"What-"

"Shut the door."

She sounded impatient, but also very tired and weary, and he obeyed without further question, turning towards her as he did so and thinking about how mad Cyborg was going to be…

"Okay, Raven, what's this about?" Robin demanded once the panel was safely shut; he had a nasty feeling, however…

Raven pulled down her hood; at once he saw how pale she was, even paler than was normal, how gaunt her face had become, taking note of the dark circles beneath her large violet eyes… It was an awful – and terribly shallow – thing to even think, but his first thought was that she looked terrible; he had never seen anyone look so ill in all his life.

"I know," Raven said quietly, a trace of a smile gracing her lips as she registered his shocked expression. "I look dreadful, don't I?"

"I… _no_." Robin shook his head firmly. "No, you don't. You look fine…"

"I look far from fine, Robin, but my appearance is the least of my worries…" She sighed heavily. "Look, I need to borrow some of your clothes until I can go to the mall and get some maternity wear…"

Robin's eyes widened.

"What? Maternity wear?" He spluttered, staring at her. "Raven, you've been pregnant for a _week!_"

"I know," Raven replied wearily. "The morning sickness is enough to remind me of that…"

"Then why do you need to borrow some of my clothes?" Robin probed suspiciously, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach even as he asked the question…

Raven regarded him for a few seconds; then she sighed and moved her gaze to the floor.

"I should have told you sooner…" she said miserably.

"Told me _what_ sooner?" Robin barbed, fearing a replay of that night down in the kitchen, where she had constantly evaded what she had been meaning to tell him…

"I… before I do, promise you won't get mad."

Robin blinked, thrown off guard.

"What? Why would I get mad?"

"I don't know… you usually fly off the handle about this kind of stuff…"

"_What_ kind of stuff?" Robin asked, exasperated.

"Promise you won't be angry; _promise_ me you won't freak out…"

"I won't."

"_Promise_."

"Okay, okay, _I promise!_" Robin held one hand to his heart and the other up as though taking a Boy Scout pledge. "No Dick Grayson major flip-outs…"

"Alright…" Raven looked up at him briefly, then averted her somewhat-frightened gaze to the floor again. "I… I guess I can _show_ you better…"

And she allowed her cloak to fall back, baring her frame in its tight black leotard.

Tighter than usual…

Robin stared at her stomach, utterly speechless. It was… she looked four or five months pregnant _at least_, maybe even _six_…

And he had impregnated her only the Wednesday before. A week and two days, to be precise.

"I… I…" He looked at her desperately. "It's a joke, isn't it? You're just trying to scare me… come on, what have you got stuffed inside there?"

"Robin, I wish I was…" Raven smiled faintly. "But I'm not. It's been growing so quickly… I felt it first kick three or four days ago, and it's been kicking me ever since. I… I can't explain why it's growing so fast…"

Robin backed against his door, not taking his eyes from her swollen abdomen.

"I was fine Friday and Saturday, you know, apart from the terrible morning sickness," Raven went on as though she had not noticed his movement. "But then, Sunday morning… my stomach looked a bit swollen, but I figured it was just my body reacting to the fact that I am pregnant, so I didn't think much of it. But Monday, my stomach was even bigger, and Tuesday I felt it _kick_. It's just been getting bigger ever since…"

All this time she had been speaking in a pretty much deadpan voice but now an incoherent sob broke the icy façade and she buried her face in her hands. He watched her, his mind still reeling with the shock, and without even thinking he went to her, put his arms around her, pulled her firmly to his chest. It was slightly more difficult with her bump in the way but she clutched at him even so, burying her face in his chest.

"_I'm so scared, Robin,_" she whispered into him, tears running down her abnormally-pale face.

"I know, Ray… so am I…" He clung to her more tightly, not sure if the gesture was more for her comfort or his own. "_So am I_…"

"It's not normal…"

"No, it isn't…" Robin frowned. "It's as if… the baby is developing like, ten times faster than it _should_ be…"

"But I'm still getting the morning sickness," Raven said miserably into his chest. "Everything's just so… _mixed up_…"

"I know, I…" Robin trailed off, not being able to think of anything to say.

There was only one thought going through his head, and perhaps, admittedly, it was a little reckless; _kill it, abort it, destroy it by any means possible…_

But that uneasy feeling was overriding him; his suspicions were being confirmed. There was something strange about this pregnancy, and something strange about the _baby_, and _this_ only proved his theory… He hadn't wanted the baby in the first place, and now he _definitely_ didn't want it to come into the world. He'd heard of premature babies, but _this_ was ridiculous; at this rate, they'd have their "bouncing bundle of joy" in their arms by this time next week. Not a pleasant thought, especially now that Robin got the feeling that it wasn't going to be such a bouncing bundle of "joy"…

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, maybe not. Either way, it could not be denied that this was very strange indeed. And if it scared Raven, it scared _him_.

But how could he put something like _that?_

_Okay, I'm freaked. Let's abort it._

She wouldn't hear of it, no matter how frightened she was by the baby's abnormally speedy development. He had a feeling that she knew as well as _he_ did that this child was not normal. But he knew she would still never abort it.

He had to try and convince her. He was scared, scared for _her_… What if this pregnancy _killed_ her? He looked at her again; only a week and she looked so ill…

"Raven…"

She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears.

"Yes?"

"I… Look, I think… you're not going to like what I'm going to say, but… I think that maybe…" He took a deep breath and just went for it. "I think we should consider an abortion."

Now Raven stared at _him_; stared and stared and stared, as he had done when he had first set eyes on her prematurely swollen abdomen.

"Did you… did you just say what I _think_ you said?…" Raven whispered eventually.

Robin gripped her all the more tightly as he felt her stiffen in his arms.

"Yes, I… Raven, I'm sorry… I know you would never even think of it, and neither would I, but this _isn't_ a normal situation. I… I'm worried about you…"

Raven had started to cry freely again, trying to break his strong grip on her..

"I can't believe you!" She sobbed wildly. "_I can't believe you, Robin!_"

"Raven, please, I-" Robin started desperately, struggling to cling onto her; she was thrashing wildly in his grip, still crying uncontrollably.

"_You want to kill our baby!_" Raven screamed at him. "_You want… to kill… my baby!_"

"No, I don't _want_ to kill it," Robin said, trying to calm her by not raising his own voice. "It's just… Raven, you gotta understand, this baby's not-"

"_Shut up!_" Raven screeched; in her blinding fury at him her eyes became four red slits and he jumped backwards in shock, releasing her. Raven took a deep breath to calm herself, her eyes fading back to normal, then pushed past him towards the door. He grabbed her wrist perhaps harder than he had intended and she whirled around angrily.

"You get off me, you conniving murderer!" She shrieked at him, trying to tug her wrist from his grip. "How can you want to kill your own baby?"

"Raven, I don't _want_ to kill it," Robin said impatiently, struggling to hold onto her as before. "I… oh, will you just _listen_ to me, _for once?_"

"NO!" Raven yelled furiously. "I'm not listening to _anything_ you've got to say! I know the baby's not "normal", I don't why it's growing so quickly, but I don't _care!_ It's still my baby, it's still my son or daughter, and I'm not aborting it, _and you can't make me!_" She wiped tears from her eyes even as she shouted at him. "I _knew_ I shouldn't have confided in you… although of all people, I thought _you_ would have understood!"

She wrenched her wrist from his hand and threw back his panel using her telekinesis, storming through it into the corridor with the same ease she would have done had she not been the equivalent of six months pregnant.

"Raven!" Robin burst out into the corridor after her, just in time to see her disappearing through a vortex in her own closed panel.

Crying.

_Oh, smooth, Boy Blunder. Way to handle that… **not**._

Clothes. She had only come into his room to ask for clothes, and now he'd done _this_… But he knew he was right; Raven was an expectant mother, of course she was disillusioned about the precious life inside her. _He_ might have been the one who had impregnated her, but he was an outsider now. It was not _his_ abdomen that was swollen, it was not _he_ who could feel the life within kicking restlessly… no, he knew he could not possibly see the situation from Raven's point of view. But it was essential that _she_ saw it from _his_ point of view, before something terrible happened…

He went back into his room and rummaged through the box of clothes Bruce had sent him months ago. A lot of it was very tight, but he knew there were some bigger T-shirts and stuff from design houses that thought it fashionable for your shirt to look four sizes too big for you. Of course Raven could no longer wear her leotards; it had looked positively stretched, and she was only going to get bigger from here on in.

He found three T-shirts – one blue, one green and one black-and-red – that looked as though they would fit pretty comfortably over Raven's growing bump, and a pair of jeans that were still stiff as cardboard owing to the fact that he had never worn them because Bruce had read the size wrong and they were miles too big for him. They should do for Raven, though.

He left them on the floor and went to his desk, finding a pen and his notebook among the mess that had accumulated there once again. He flipped the notebook open to a blank page and scrawled a note to Raven;

_Ray; Sorry, I handled that wrong. We'll talk. R_

He tore the page from the notebook and folded it once, going back to the pile of clothes he had picked out for Raven and placing the note on top. Then he picked them up and left his room, the three T-shirts and the jeans folded neatly in his arms. He didn't knock Raven's door, knowing perfectly well that she wouldn't answer anyway, and that if she did, he would end up the worst off. Instead he left the clothes in a neat pile outside her door and slipped the note through the crack at the bottom. Straightening up, he was just about to leave before she opened the door—

"_ROBIN! COME HERE NOW BEFORE I STRING YOU UP!_"

Wincing, Robin turned and positively ran to the elevator; Cyborg, the Boy Wonder concluded, was _not_ happy…

* * *

First of all, anyone who read my six-part fic _Monsters in the Closet_… Please forgive any similarities. This came first, and this is better. 

Ooh, intense already, huh? And surprise, surprise; Robin has screwed something up already…

Although, yeah, as most of you have predicted, there is something seriously up with that kid.

Okay, things to say: The whole reason I even updated today was because today, 3rd October, is my one year anniversary of being a member of this site! And what a year it's been! My first fic on here, _The Thing_, didn't actually go up until the 8th October, but I just didn't want to make you wait that long! Aren't I nice to you? So "happy birthday" to me… yay…

Secondly, to take up some things in reference to _Black Magic_; remember I was saying that I assumed Robin's birthday is in March because it says in _Robin: Year One_ he was born in spring and also he seems like an Aries? Here's another interesting coincidence – I have the _Teen Titans_ 2005 calendar up on my wall. The Titan on March is… Robin. Think it ends there? I have already bought the _Teen Titans_ 2006 calendar (it can be found on Amazon, BTW). It has some nice new additions, like Terra, the Titans East and even Trigon (funny, Slade's not on there… and neither is Aqualad, come to think of it…).

But which Titan is on March?

Robin.

Two years running. Strange, no?

Also, thankyou to all who checked out the _Black Magic_ art on my shared DeviantART account. I will be putting more art up soon; more from _Black Magic_, some from _Asylum_ and some from _Remember the Titans_. There is some _Small Print_ art up there, BTW. And yeah, to everyone who commented that Marcus and Jonathon look kinda girly… Couldn't argue with you. They do. Oh well…

And on a movie note: I haven't seen _Teen Titans: Trouble in Tokyo _yet. I **have** seen _High School Musical_; they showed it on British Disney Channel about two weeks back. It was very good and I even bought the soundtrack. And did anyone else see _Dead or Alive_? I really enjoyed it, but… it had two major plot devices in it that have also been in _Teen Titans_! The fighters are injected with nanobots identical to those in _Apprentice_; and the actual plot itself was about the guy who organised the fighting tournament downloading the moves of the best fighters so that he would become all powerful.

Sound familiar?

It's _Winner Take All_, isn't it?

It was good, though; I thought so, anyway. Hey, compared to the _last_ few movies I've seen in the cinema (_Ultraviolet_, _Lady in the Water_) **anything** is good…

Anyway, thankyou to everyone who reviewed _Black Magic_ and who has reviewed _Remember the Titans_ so far. It all starts to really go down from here; please strap yourselves in and DO NOT remove your safety harnesses until the ride has come to a complete stop.

You have been warned; oh-so-warned.

Both _Small Print_ and _Seven_ have been updated recently, by the way…

And check out the trailer on my profile! Once again, thankyou to **Flying Fish**!

See you next time!

RobinRocks xXx


	4. The Fall of the Titans

The rollercoaster is, at present, perched at the very top of that first huge drop; dangling right over the edge of a vertical stretch of track that is going to send you – whether you like it or not – plummeting screaming into a seemingly-endless abyss. You're strapped in, and there's no way you're getting off now.

There is no turning back.

Mwa ha ha.

Call this chapter the cataclysm. Because _this_… **THIS**, my friends, is where it all truly begins.

I trust that you will not be disappointed.

_Angry_, perhaps, at the cliff-hanger. But not _disappointed_. I hope not, anyway.

This chapter comes once again with "Interactive Features" (isn't this all so much fun?). Not ONLY have I put up some more drawings on DeviantART (link in my profile) – and FYI, two of the drawings are from none other than the AWOL, infamous _Robin Goes to Hollywood_; my two favourite chapter title pages. I will be putting up more from _Black Magic_, _Remember the Titans_ and even _Asylum_ at a later date, but for now you can actually _see_ the evidence of the existence of a fic that I cannot, since my computer lost the files, prove ever existed. Please check them out if you get time – you don't have to leave a comment or anything, but I would like to prove that I DID spend six months of my sad little life on _RGTH_… Other drawings that Narroch06 and myself have on offer on our account include _Small Print_ art, random _Teen Titans_ drawings with such titles as _Sleepy Star_ and _Mini Demon-Vampire Robin_ (I wonder what that could be…), some beautiful drawings/paintings of dragons by Narroch06 and a debatable drawing of Dee Laytner from the manga _FAKE_ by me, which has an entire tale of woe to go with it…

But I digress.

Because not _ONLY_ are there drawings, but… yes, there is ANOTHER music video/trailer! Again for _Black Magic_, and again by the wonderfully talented Coolteenzz, there is a brand new link right at the top of my profile so you can check it out. While you're there on Coolteenzz's account, you can also catch her original _Black Magic_ video to Nightwish's _Ghost Love Score_, the _Small Print_ video to Linkin Park's _Crawling_, and the _Child of the Hunt_ video, to Nightwish's _Moondance_ (FYI, _Child of the Hunt_ is a tiny one-shot I wrote about Robin getting his revenge on Boss Zucco, and can be found on my profile. It's only 521 words long. I know, I know… shameless plug… The MV is great, though!). And also on the MV front, if you didn't stop by to see Flying Fish's _Black Magic Trailer _last time, you can also find the link to that on my profile, along with the link to the very first _Small Print_ video by Citrus02honey, to Evanescence's _Going Under_.

I know, and I expect you to _review_ as well. What a slave-driver I am…

Big thankyou to all reviewers, including: **Luneko**, **Flying02Fish**, **Guardian of Azarath**, **The GmR**, **Raven of the Night676**, **Quinn and His Quill**, **White KIWI**, **Poison's Ivy**, **YamiTai**, **Crazy Insomniac**, **KamiElf**, **Coolteenzz**, **Kougraness**, **Simmie**, **Meq**, and other regulars who I'm quite positive are around here somewhere, including Narroch06, Rocky-White Wolf of Curses, Peace215, Azar the Kinslayer, Daybreak25, Thrillzone, Seductive Angel, Raven Victoria Grayson, Heathen Requiem…

Well, you know who you are.

_This_ chapter might get you all reviewing…

Dedicated to **Coolteenzz** and **Flying02Fish** as a thankyou for the beautiful videos you have made for me! I love them all!

The Fall of the Titans

Robin side-grounded his R-cycle and removed his helmet, shaking his head and smoothing his black hair as he tossed it to one side. He paused for a second or two, still straddling the wide leather seat of his bike even though the ignition was now off, watching as the T-car scraped to a halt a few feet away from him. The roar of the V8 engine died and the doors swung open; Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven stepped out of the impressive car and came to join him as he slid off his motorcycle. Seconds later Starfire landed next to them, completing the team; the alien girl had flown there.

They all looked expectantly at Robin, waiting for him to give the order; tight-lipped, he merely nodded to Cyborg. It was the same every time they were called out – they all forgot every time the Titan Alert went off that he was no longer team leader.

Cyborg was.

Cyborg was a good leader; efficient, quick to organise and level-headed. He perhaps was not as natural a leader as the more bossy, determined Dick Grayson, and his skill exceeded in the area of machinery and electronics, not plans and detective work. But nevertheless, he got the job done, and though there was the odd time when Robin watched him giving out the orders and felt a strange pang of loss, the Boy Wonder liked to watch his friend in his place and did not resent him. The others all respected him as such too, but still forgot every single time that they were supposed to look to him instead of Robin.

"Right, everyone here?" Cyborg asked, looking around at them all. "Great. Okay, so…"

He trailed off as he and the other four Titans turned to look up at the huge warehouse towering above them. They had parked up at the back after responding to the Titan Alert echoing throughout the entire Tower and through their communicators, getting here as fast as possible by their quickest individual means – Robin on his R-cycle, Starfire by flight and Cyborg and Beast Boy – who could not fly as fast as Starfire – in the T-car, accompanied by Raven, who, Robin suspected, was in no fit condition to fly herself. He would have offered her a lift on the back of his bike, but she was, as was becoming a usual practice recently, ignoring him except for the occasional murderous glance in his direction.

The Teen Titans wouldn't have made such a fuss but for the tiny "S" showing up on the mainframe map.

Slade.

And despite Cyborg's protests, the half-robot had been unable to force Robin to stay behind this time, the Boy Wonder having already revved his bike and been out of the garage by the time Cyborg had chased him down there.

And so the Teen Titans had come, they had seen… and now they had to conquer.

"Well, I guess we should check it out," Cyborg said decisively. The others nodded in agreement, Robin pulling his staff from his belt as he did so and allowing it to extend to its full length beneath his gloved fingers.

"Titans, GO!" Cyborg commanded; Starfire took to the air immediately, her eyes glowing green, closely followed by Beast Boy in the form of a hawk. Raven seemed to have a little difficultly in following them – maybe because of her swollen stomach, or maybe because of the emotional turmoil raging within her mind – but she managed to get airborne eventually and went off after Starfire and Beast Boy; as her cloak flapped slightly in the breeze Robin caught a glimpse of a blue T-shirt and jeans in place of her leotard and smiled. At least she hadn't refused to put them on – he wouldn't like to have thought she was uncomfortable just because he had upset her.

"You know, I still kind of wish you were still leader," Cyborg said from behind Robin, placing a large metal hand on his friend's shoulder. "But I _do_ like yelling that."

Robin grinned.

"Yeah, it's a great benefit," he agreed. "Come on, Cy, we better follow them."

Cyborg nodded in assent and together they made their way over to the corrugated metal wall of the huge warehouse. Cyborg led up his left arm and the metal plates slide back to reveal not, as Robin had expected, his proton cannon, but a high-power buzzsaw. He pushed Robin backwards, telling him to shield his eyes; the Boy Wonder obliged, pulling his cape up over his face the way Batman often did as Cyborg got to work cutting his own makeshift doorway in the thin sheet-metal wall.

"Ok, we're done," Cyborg said brightly less than a minute later, the incessant high-pitched buzzing noise dying. Robin ventured out from behind his cape just in time to see Cyborg – now with two arms again – kicking in the sheet of metal he had cut away as though it was tin foil.

"Nice work, Cy," Robin complimented him brightly, following the half-robot through into the dark warehouse beyond. Inside it was almost pitch dark, the only light coming from the "doorway" Cyborg had cut into the back wall and the green light issuing from Starfire; she, Raven and Beast Boy had entered through the windows near the top of the tall empty building.

"Yo, are there any lights in here?" Cyborg asked loudly, flipping up a torch from his left shoulder plate and shining it around; similarly Robin took his penlight from his utility belt and flicked it on.

"I can try to…" Raven's voice trailed off as she drifted into her mantra; a few seconds passed and then, one by one, the four striplights on the ceiling of the warehouse flickered to life.

"Nice one, Ray!" Cyborg said with a grin, deactivating his built-in torch system. Robin put away his torch too, but Starfire's hands still glowed with her Tamaranean power as the five Teen Titans looked around cautiously for any sign of Slade, or indeed _life_.

Nothing.

"You don't reckon this was another send up, do you?" Beast Boy inquired, looking sideways at Robin. "Another trap meant for Robin?"

"I dunno, B," Cyborg replied, charging up his proton cannon. "There's no tellin' with Slade…"

_No, there isn't_, Robin agreed silently. He looked across at Raven; her cloak was clutched tightly around her swollen form, but not so that you could see even a trace of her pregnancy, and her hood was up.

_Raven, please don't get hurt, and please don't let Slade figure out that you're pregnant… don't give him an excuse to hurt **you** too…_

"I'm doin' an area scan," Cyborg said, cutting into his thoughts. Robin looked at his friend and saw that he was tapping something into the built-in mini-computer in his right arm. It began to bleep and flash as Cyborg slowly moved in a complete 360 degrees turn.

"Nothin'," the half-robot sighed as he came back to the spot he hand been standing in before. "There's nothin' here, guys… it was another trick; another of Slade's mad pointless chases…" He started to lower his arm, and as he did so Robin saw that the tiny screen lit up on the protective glass plate covering Cyborg's circuits was going crazy, all sorts of charts and graphs flashing across it.

"Cy, your arm!" He cried.

"What?" Cyborg looked back at the tiny computer on his arm. "System control, electronic charges, plasmic readings…" The half-robot looked up frantically. "We're not alone, guys. Brace yourselves!"

And they could hear it, from beyond the far wall of the huge warehouse, a tremendous crashing, a choir of sheer power. And on Cyborg's computer, the charge reading was rocketing higher and higher, signalling that the explosion beyond was drawing closer and closer by the split-second…

"TITANS, _SCATTER!_" Cyborg commanded at the top of his voice.

The team wasted no time in obeying – Beast Boy transformed into a tortoise and shot inside his hard protective shell; Starfire flipped over in the air, soared down and grasped hold of Robin, taking to the air with him safely in her arms; and Raven flew down as fast as she could and threw up a black protective shield around herself and Cyborg. Seconds later the far thin metal wall of the warehouse exploded inwards, showering hot metal, glass and wood debris from the crates stacked there prior to the explosion across the length of the huge empty room.

And through the smoke the Teen Titans could see three huge shapes lumbering towards them.

Cinderblock.

Plasmus.

Overload.

Three big bad guys – three big problems.

The Teen Titans regrouped, Robin still held around his waist by Starfire as she hovered a few feet from the floor.

"Oh yeah," Cyborg murmured, his proton cannon clicking into place. "We're definitely not alone…" His dark face hardened in the face of their adversaries; this time it wasn't up to Robin to lead the Teen Titans to victory.

It was up to him.

"TITANS, _GO!_" Cyborg shouted, firing up his cannon and charging forwards full tilt at the three monstrous villains.

The others followed him.

Followed him to their deaths.

Robin found himself against Plasmus; as usual whenever he looked upon the villain – one Otto Von Furth, beneath all that oozing sludge – he was reminded of a foe he and Batman had come up against many times before, known as Clayface. Gripping his staff, the Boy Wonder scrutinized the situation, wondering how best to launch an attack—

He dithered a moment too long, realising his mistake as Plasmus' huge gaping mouth opened and his long slithery tongue shot out from within the dark interior, wrapping around him. Robin's voice escaped him, as did his movement, and Plasmus swallowed him whole before he could do a thing about it.

Fighting for their lives, none of his friends noticed – except, of course, Starfire.

The alien girl screeched something abusive at Plasmus in fluent Tamaranean and soared headlong at him, her eyes blazing emerald. She ripped two energy bolts from her eyes into Plasmus, getting splattered by fried gunk in the process, and carried on flying straight into him, where she too was lost within the slimy interior of whatever Plasmus actually was. She floundered, searching for Robin in the cold slimy darkness… She caught hold of his flailing hand and, recognising that it was her by the metal gauntlet on her arm, he gave her fingers a quick squeeze. She gripped him tighter, preparing to fly out again pulling him with her, but she needn't have worried about him in the first place; there was a sudden explosion as Robin detonated one of his explosive discs and the pair of them were blasted outwards to the cold warehouse floor, covered in bits of Plasmus. They tumbled over and over, scraping to an eventual halt amid most of Plasmus.

Starfire sat up first, seeing Robin sprawled out covered in red slime with his masked eyes closed.

"Robin!" She cried in anguish, shaking him. Seconds later he sat up and wiped his face with his left hand.

"Gross," he muttered. "It ate me…"

"_Robin!_" Starfire squealed happily, throwing her arms around him and collapsing on top of him. He lay there on the floor, trying to reclaim his breath after going so long without air, with Starfire on top of him; he didn't have the energy to push her off, and besides, he had a nasty feeling that she was actually stuck to him…

He looked up past Starfire's sticky red hair and to his alarm saw that Plasmus was already reforming.

"Star, move!" He shoved her off and dived into her, getting them both out of the way as a huge thick tendril came slamming down where they had been seconds before.

Robin and Starfire looked up in horror as they saw that the newly-reformed Plasmus was towering over them once again. Starfire's eyes and hands began to glow and Robin gripped his – slimy – staff all the more tightly—

"_BOO-YAH!_" Came Cyborg's jubilant voice from behind Plasmus.

And suddenly an explosion of blue power shot right through Plasmus' mid-section, leaving a gaping hole. Cyborg dive-leapt through the hole and landed with a flourish.

"Robbie, saw what happened," he said, turning to face Plasmus alongside his friends as the gooey villain filled out the hole again. "Hasn't this dude ever heard of a MacDonald's?"

"Guess not," Robin replied grimly; beside him, Starfire seemed confused.

"Friends, I too have never heard of this "MacDonald's"," she said, clearly perplexed. "Please, is it some kind of-"

She was cut off as Plasmus lashed at them again; she took to the air while Cyborg and Robin dived and rolled, coming to their knees side by side.

"Sonic Boom?" Cyborg stated rather than asked. "That's how we canned this guy last time."

Robin nodded, going to his utility belt for an explosive disc. However, he had barely pulled it out when Cinderblock suddenly toppled backwards and landed on Plasmus, splattering him all over again.

"Hold that thought," Robin said flatly, wiping his face again and shaking the excess sludge from his glove in disgust.

A huge green Tyrannosaurus Rex came into view, roaring ferociously and lashing its thick tail – Beast Boy in yet another form that was more useful than his human one.

"Good work, B!" Cyborg called, giving the dinosaur a thumbs up.

Beast Boy shrank back to his human form, grinning. He moved beside Robin and Cyborg, surveying the two fallen villains; Plasmus was struggling to reform beneath Cinderblock's solid mass and not succeeding.

"Ok, that's two down," Beast Boy happily, dusting his grey-gloved hands together. "Just Overload to…"

He trailed off, his pointed ears flattening, as Cinderblock gave an almighty roar and sat up; beneath him the bubbling mass that was Plasmus began, for a third time, to take shape again.

"You know, Hawaii is looking better than ever right now," Beast Boy said weakly, backing away until he bumped into Cyborg. Starfire had joined them again and together the four of them launched yet another assault on Slade's persistent lackeys.

Meanwhile – though she didn't like to admit it, even to herself – Raven was in trouble. Overload seemed to have picked her out and was chasing her while she tried to stop him from hurting the baby. It was a difficult stunt to pull off, and she was merely dodging attacks and not being able to fire one back in fear of being still one second too long and Overload managing to hit her. Her powers were also getting more and more difficult to control, and she felt ill and tired and in no fit state to be fighting someone with the sole intent of electrocuting her. She wished one of them – _any_ of them – would come to her aid, distract Overload so that she could get a hit in, but alas they were all too busy getting kicked around by Cinderblock or eaten and spewed on by Plasmus. Every time she tried to fly in their direction Overload blocked her, as though he knew what she was trying to do, and her reasons for it.

Overload's arm crackled with electricity as he swung it back, preparing to hit her full on.

"Overload smash you!" He shouted, his voice raspy. He threw the punch but Raven put up a barrier, deflecting it. The electricity soared back at Overload and he merely reabsorbed it, laughing insolently, his voice scraping like sandpaper.

Raven sighed in despair, near tears; a side-effect of her pregnancy was extreme sensitiveness, which didn't help the fact that she had to maintain balanced emotions to access her powers. Overload swung at her again and she flew out scantly out of the way, hearing the electricity crackling with its nearness. With every jerky movement she felt the baby kick, as though unsettled by its mother's actions… She was so tired, why wouldn't one of them come and help her? Just _one_ of them…

Overload knew he was pushing her into a corner, he could see how exhausted she was… Slade had warned them about the Teen Titan known as Raven, said that she was possibly the most dangerous; now it seemed that she was going to be the easiest of all to pick off.

"Tired?" Overload rasped, and if beings made of purely electricity and a single control board could smirk, he surely would have.

Raven merely gazed at him. She couldn't believe it; Overload was going to kill her. This cheap, crappy excuse for a villain was going to _kill_ her… But she knew it was true – she simply couldn't keep fighting…

"Overload will end your pain," Overload went on in his grating voice. Both arms went back and she heard the audible crackling of the voltage as he powered up to finish her off…

Raven felt the baby kicking again and put her hand to her stomach, feeling her eyes sting with tears…

"DO NOT HURT MY FRIEND!"

Raven's head jerked up and Overload whipped around; both saw Starfire streaking at the villain, her eyes positively flaming with her Tamaranean power. Her hands were together, her arms out in front of her, and a single, powerful starbolt was forming at her fingertips. With an enraged, high-pitched cry, Starfire tore the starbolt through Overload. The villain toppled even as Starfire flew over to Raven, who quickly made sure that her cloak was covering every inch of her swollen form clothed in too-big garments of Robin's.

"Raven, you are unharmed?" Starfire inquired as she reached her.

"Yes, thanks to you, Starfire," Raven replied quietly, offering her friend a smile. Starfire beamed.

"Robin sent me over here," she explained. "He saw that you were in trouble…"

"Oh…" Raven felt her heart contract unpleasantly. Well, that was Robin; looking out for everyone but himself. Even now, as she looked across the warehouse, she saw the Boy Wonder being thrown across the room by Cinderblock – after telling Beast Boy to get out of the rocky villain's way. If only he would listen to himself, he probably wouldn't almost-die quite so often…

"The boys have it "under control" over there, Cyborg says," Starfire went on, chewing on the end of one of her slender fingers. "He says that they can "cut it"…"

And looking over again, Raven saw that the boys did indeed seem to have the Cinderblock/Plasmus situation under control.

It was Overload who was her main worry.

"Do not worry, Raven," Starfire murmured beside her, her hands glowing green. "We too can "cut it"."

Raven smiled vaguely in spite of herself as Overload began to rise. Starfire didn't even wait until the villain had reached his full height, soaring at him and sending a mouthful of starbolts in his direction. While Starfire distracted him – a feat she performed marvellously well, weakening him with every blow – Raven breathed out slowly, centring herself, then uttered her mantra, lifting up four empty wooden crates stacked against the wall behind her.

"Starfire!" She cried in an attempt to get the Tamaranean girl's attention. Starfire looked up, saw that Raven wanted her to move, and obediently flew out of range.

Overload whipped around, hearing Raven's call, and was pummelled mercilessly by the heavy crates, one after another. Starfire took this cue and began shooting out starbolts again, so that Overload was struck from both sides. To Raven's satisfaction, she heard Overload howling in rage as he was slowly beaten down by the two female Titans…

Raven cried out as suddenly she was sent careering backwards, slamming down on the cold, hard concrete floor of the warehouse. Starfire met a similar fate, landing in a crumpled heap beside the telekinetic. Dazed, Raven sat up to find Overload looming over them, laughing in an infuriating, triumphant fashion. What had happened? What had he hit them with?...

"Puny Titans not beat Overload!" The villain roared. "Nobody beat Overload! _Overload always win!_"

"Sorry, dude," came Beast Boy's voice from behind the villain. "That's the _wrong_ answer."

"Show's over, Cyber-jerk," Cyborg's voice added.

"And this time we're shutting you down for good." Robin, of course – stupid pun gave it away…

Overload turned, distracted from finishing Raven once again, and was met by a flurry of powerful and expertly co-ordinated attacks performed in sequence by Cyborg, Robin and Beast Boy.

Starfire and Raven got to their feet, Raven clutching at her cloak; Starfire turned to her and they both nodded to each other, taking to the air to join the fray. However, Raven was quickly running out of energy and her powers were weakening by the second, and she didn't last long, being thrown back to the ground within the minute.

"Raven!"

She sat up as she heard Robin's voice, rubbing the back of her head through her hood. No, she _didn't_ want _his_ concern…

"Raven…" Robin reached her, kneeling down beside her. "Are you alright?" He reached out a hand to put on her shoulder and she jerked out of his reach.

"I'm fine," she snapped. His expression indiscernible, his hand instead went to her swollen stomach and rested on it.

"And is the baby?"

She blinked at him.

"Is…?" She trailed off, her voice weak.

"You heard me." Robin was frowning. "Look, this morning… I… Raven, I don't want you getting hurt. Or the baby." He added that last bit seemingly grudgingly.

"I won't," she assured him. "What about Cinderblock and Plasmus?"

Robin actually grinned now, thumbing over his shoulder.

"We took care of 'em."

Raven looked over to where he was indicating and saw that Cinderblock was out cold and Plasmus was Plasmus no more; instead a boxer-clad Otto Von Furth slept amid the excess sludge.

"_Ew_," was all Raven could offer.

"Yeah…" Robin grasped Raven's wrists. "Overload is proving more of a problem though," he said. "Remember how we beat him last time?"

"Yes; water," Raven replied simply.

Robin nodded.

"Right. But there's no water tanks or anything in here. So…" He gripped her wrists tighter, his expression grim. "Cy says there are water pipes running directly beneath this warehouse."

"You need me to rip them up," Raven finished unequivocally.

Robin nodded again.

"Right…" She struggled to get to her feet, but wasn't amused when Robin tried to help her.

"Get off!" She reprimanded him irritably. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid!"

Grinning slightly at her annoyance, Robin took his hands off her.

"Well, get going!" Raven snapped, flicking her hand at him. "Go and help distract him so that I can soak him."

Robin nodded for a third time and turned to go; and then, as though struck by something, he suddenly whipped around again, grabbed hold of her and kissed her hard as though he thought he would never see her again.

"It'll be okay," he whispered as he pulled back, amused by her bewildered expression; it had been so quick and unexpected she hadn't even had the chance to kiss back.

"Everything will be okay…"

And then he let go and ran off back towards Overload and the other Titans as though nothing had happened.

Struggling to push the unexpected kiss from her mind – she had barely realised what was happening, but the baby had kicked extremely hard as Robin's lips had touched hers – Raven closed her eyes and centred herself once more. She exhaled heavily, feeling the energy, her Azarathian power, her knowledge of ancient magic flowing throughout her entire body. Her mind layered… she sensed the pipes beneath her feet, felt the powerful surge of the water flowing through them…

"Azarath. Metrion. _Zinthos_…"

One world. Twin moons. She called upon the power bestowed upon her, a gift, not a curse…

_Concentrated_…

Two thick pipes burst through the concrete beneath her, shooting high-powered jets of water everywhere. She struggled to control them as they thrashed about like two enraged snakes. Black magic flowed through them and they were in her command. She aimed them at Overload and he began to leap around, avoiding the water as it splashed all over the floor, and she felt like a gangster shooting at the feet of a bum…

Something was wrong. The water flow was diminishing… it slowed to a trickle, died completely...

"_NO!_" Cyborg hollered in anguish.

"_DAMN!_" Robin wailed.

Raven let the pipes drop, looking behind her. Cinderblock was far from unconscious; he was standing on the pipes, stopping the water flow completely…

"TITANS, GET HIM!" Cyborg bellowed, utterly irate. He started to charge at Cinderblock, closely followed by Robin, Starfire and Beast Boy…

"OVERLOAD WIN!" Overload screeched valiantly from behind them… and he slammed his foot down on the wet floor, sending a surge of high voltage shooting across the thin layer of water conducting it—

Through the Teen Titans.

Electrocuting them.

To death.

The agony was unbearable; the entire warehouse was filled with the screams of all five Titans as they died, the burning of flesh and fabric, of circuits, metal, hair, blood…

Starbolts rocketed through the air even as Starfire screamed.

Sparks flew from Cyborg as his whole system shorted out.

Beast Boy's form changed unwillingly as the electricity surged through his green body.

Black magic poured from the tiny red jewel on Raven's ashma chakra, exploding crates into shards of wood; inside her, the baby…

And having no powers to speak of, Robin merely screamed, feeling the voltage searing through his entire body, killing him…

He died first, and the others joined him within split-seconds of each other.

And Overload's laughter rang out through the entire broken warehouse, the Teen Titans dead at his feet.

* * *

Now you know why it's called _REMEMBER the Titans_...

Think I'm kidding?

Well, I will leave the talking to you.

But really, just where DO we go from here?

One note: Plasmus' human form is actually called Otto Von Furth. It is never mentioned in the show, but he is named as such in the Titansgo . net transcripts, and they are extremely accurate. He is also called this in the _Teen Titans_ "Divide and Conquer" novelisation (_Cyborg, Come Home_).

Yes, I have it. And yes, the reading age is about sort of for 8-11 year olds. Yes, it's far too young for me and I read it in about five minutes. The art sucked too, and Tracy West is a terrible author.

But it was my dad's money and I was sick of Amazon recommending it to me because I bought _The Judas Contract_.

So I bought it to shut them up.

And now **I** will shut up.

Ladies and gentlemen, you have the floor…


	5. Angel of Death

Okay, well, first of all, I just want to apologise for waiting so long to update. As I'm sure most of you knew, the update/review alert system wasn't working last week (surprise surprise), so there seemed to be no point in updating if no-one would even know about it. So I thought I'd wait.

Hence… the very long gap between updates.

And I'd left you hanging off such a nasty cliff too… Well, you can blame the site for that, not me… _Seven_ was updated well over a week ago too, but no-one knew about that either… But this has FINALLY been updated, so hooray!

Okay, well, the response last chapter was pretty good – at least in numbers. I figured you might all have something to say about that… Not everyone _liked_ what I did, but hey… As for speculations, the one main one seemed to be that people thought it was a dream sequence cop out. Now we all know I love my dream sequences, but really, I wouldn't pull that on you. _Come on_…

The Titans… _are_ dead. This is something that will be resolved. How? If I told you, you wouldn't need to read it, would you?

At the moment, I will wholly admit that this story does seem like it is all over the place – it seems almost unconnected with _Black Magic_ and certainly unconnected with _Asylum_. Please trust me that everything _will_ all be pulled together – I should know, because I have actually written the whole thing, and while it is not the singly greatest story ever written, I don't think you're going to be disappointed. So if that helps… although it seems like I'm just making this up as I go along – gradually writing myself into a corner I can't get out of – I'm _not_.

Also, yeah, I've noticed that the majority of you quite like the idea of this baby, which I find very strange… O.o

Anyway, thankyou to everyone all in one go; **Simmie, Guardian of Azarath, Flying02Fish, Me, Coolteenzz, YamiTai, Luneko, Narroch06, Kami-elf, Quinn and His Quill, Crazy Insomniac, Rocky-White Wolf of Curses, The Dragon's Fire **(who WAS Athena's Wings, right? Thankyou for the very dedicated reading of all that comes before this in such a short space of time!)**, Poison's Ivy, Raven of the Night676, Super Chaos, Dragon-Fire-Fairy **and** Raven Victoria Grayson.**

I'm just going to say this to all of you, since you all pretty much said the same thing: Gotcha going, huh, suckers? Heh heh heh…

Enjoy this; the return of Slade, Terra and…

Angel of Death

As though abruptly awaking from the very deepest of sleeps, Robin sat up with a sudden gasp. He was so disorientated; where was the hell _was_ he? It was dark, and where he lay – although now he was sitting up – was cold and hard and wet. There was a vague, incessant buzzing noise ringing in the air, as though from a broken florescent light, and the air smelled of something burning. His entire body felt very strange, too; very, very warm, and… he couldn't explain it. His skin tingled with a feeling that was not unlike pins and needles, but he knew that that was not it. It was something else…

How had he gotten here, and more to the point, _where was here?_

He put his hands out, feeling the icy water seeping through his gloves; lifting one hand up, he squeezed his thumb and forefinger together – and gasped as a spark of electricity shot between them.

But it did not affect him.

He frowned… and remembered.

He remembered dying.

And yet here he was.

Unless he was a ghost, or a zombie… perhaps not a zombie, but maybe an un-dead? A vampire?... But how could he be a vampire? He'd never been bitten by one.

And… tch. Vampire. Yeah, _riiight_…

No, he'd died because he'd been electrocuted. He remembered it clearly, remembered the pain, his own screams of agony sounding distant, the smell of his own burning flesh…

He pinched himself on the arm, hard – and grunted in pain. Yep, he was definitely solid.

Not a ghost.

He was alive, somehow.

And if he was alive, then maybe his friends were too…

He shakily stood up, noticed white sparks of electricity crackling around him, as though he was Overload himself, or Thunder's stormy brother Lightning…

_How am I alive? I died; I **know** I did…_

He went to his utility belt, feeling the metal becoming charged with the electricity he seemed to be shooting from his fingertips. He pulled out his torch, flicked it on… and it exploded. With a startled cry he threw it down, where it shattered on the concrete floor of the warehouse. Still gasping in shock, he looked around for something to cast some light from. The light was no longer pouring in from Cyborg's makeshift doorway, as it was now dark outside. How long had he been… _dead?..._

For some strange reason, not only was he somehow alive after being electrocuted, but he seemed to have some kind of control over electricity itself. His body was still charged, and somehow he miraculously hadn't managed to electrocute himself all over again. Why wasn't the voltage affecting him?

Still, better use it to his advantage. He looked across the warehouse and saw large splinters of wood lying around from the boxes Raven had exploded as she had…

_No, don't think like that. If **I'm** alive, then **they** have to be…_

The light pouring in from the makeshift door Cyborg had created was somewhat limited, and the striplights had blown their fuses, but Robin managed to snatch up a large stake of broken wood, relieved that it was dry.

Robin knew that wood did not conduct electricity, but if he could make something else explode he could create a spark to make fire. He rummaged through his belt again, looking for something else electronic that would short out at his new electrical touch.

_Ah; circuit-breaker…_

A black plastic square case, two metal spikes sticking out of the top, and a single button to activate it. When pushed down, a small charge formed between the two metal spikes, disabling circuits. Purely electronic; just what he needed. He only hoped he wouldn't ever need it for its correct purpose, seeing as he was about to destroy it.

Holding it over the top of the wood stake, Robin pressed the circuit-breaker's button… and it dutifully exploded at his touch.

And, just as he had hoped, a flame leapt to life at the end of his stake. Robin dropped the annihilated circuit-breaker and stepped on it, sparks flying from underneath his metal sole.

Robin stood in the middle of the warehouse holding his flaming torch aloft, feeling like the Statue of Liberty. The flames cast a dull, flickering glow around a 5-metre radius. Cinderblock, Plasmus and Overload had cleared out, by the looks of it.

The other four Teen Titans were all lying sprawled out on the wet concrete floor, and somehow in his heart he knew that they, unlike him, were dead. They were all quite close together; that made sense, he remembered all five of them being in close proximity when Overload had electrocuted them…

But… when he had awoken, _he_ had not been with them. He had been at least three or four metres away from where he had first fallen.

_Ok, creepy_…

No, obviously Cinderblock or Overload had kicked him aside or something, regardless of whether he had actually been dead or not.

Somehow, that thought was even creepier…

As he looked at his friends, he felt a chill wash over him, and it was not purely because his four best friends in the whole world were dead. It was… the way they were all lying there, it reminded him of that terrible dream he had had, following his hallucination in Arkham Asylum a few weeks ago, in which he had turned on his friends, murdered them, and in the end he had been the one left standing over their dead bodies.

Just like now.

But this time _he_ had not killed them.

_Overload_ had, on Slade's command.

No, they _couldn't_ be dead… _he_ was still alive, and he was the weakest out of them all. He had no powers; how could _he_ have survived, and _they_ hadn't?...

He went to Cyborg first, the nearest, and knelt down beside him, holding the flaming torch above his head. Cyborg was sparking, his circuits and fuses all blown out, his chocolate skin seared and burned… His electronic eye was burned out, his other human one wide and staring, his mouth open in a half-scream…

_Dead_.

Robin's heart sank. He reached out and closed his dead friend's one human eye in a last show of respect, as he had done for murdered senator Jonathon Vaughan, and got up, moving to Beast Boy.

Robin felt physically sick as he set eyes on Beast Boy. The green shape-shifter was utterly fried, his emerald slightly-furry skin scorched… at least his eyes were closed…

Shivering slightly now with shock and horror and despair, he went to Starfire. Starfire was Tamaranean, she could withstand a lot of things that human beings couldn't; boulders, explosions… what about electricity? The alien girl was on her side, her back to him and her hair all over her face. Hoping against hope, Robin reached out a hand and shook Starfire by one exposed shoulder. He felt electricity surge from his own body into hers, but she didn't so much as twitch. Robin wriggled his free hand underneath the curve of Starfire's hip and pulled her into him, feeling how warm she was… Did that mean she was alive?

He practically felt his heart tear in two as Starfire's form rolled over and he saw her beautiful gold skin seared and scorched as Cyborg and Beast Boy's had been. Her eyes too were shut, but he could see the pain still etched onto her pretty face. Her hair was burned too, and her clothes, her neck-plate and arm-guards sparked as the metal conducted the electricity… She was only warm because she was so burned.

"_Star_…" His blue eyes behind his mask stung with salty tears, and he forced them back as he kissed her forehead and lay her down again. He rose and stepped over her, making for Raven.

There was no point in kidding himself; they were all dead. Somehow, he was the only one who had survived. He wasn't even burned, although his clothes had been in better condition that morning. He had died with them but somehow, something had brought him back. Thing was, why only _him?_ Why not _all_ of them?

He reached Raven and knelt down beside her. Raven was flat on her back, her hood still up but her cloak fanning out underneath her, giving perfect scope to her swollen abdomen. Tears formed beneath his mask once more as he looked at her. She didn't actually seem to be as badly burned as the others, but he knew that she too was dead. He looked at her stomach and felt weird; only this morning he had tried to talk Raven into aborting the baby. Now the thought of his child dead too, still inside its mother's womb, made him want to cry too. He could not explain it, nor could he explain a strange sense of anger he also seemed to feel alongside his grief.

Overload had done this, but on Slade's order. He had killed Robin's friends, killed his… _lover_, and killed his child.

And Robin knew he had meant to kill _him_ too. In fact, that had probably been the most prominent order; kill the Avenger. But he was still here, even if he had nothing to live for.

_Score one for Wonder Boy…_

No, he had something to live for.

Revenge.

And he would have his vengeance, if it was the last thing he did.

Robin heaved a sigh as he made that vow, placing a hand on Raven's stomach. She, like Starfire, was still warm from the god-knows-how-many volts that had surged through her body. He knew this was why _he_ felt very warm too, even though he was not burnt as they were.

_Or dead_.

He simply knelt there for a while, feeling… _feelingless_, one hand on Raven's swollen abdomen, his flaming stake in the other.

_Until he felt the baby kick._

He snatched his hand back as though he had been burned, staring wide-eyed at his dead friend's swollen stomach. Had he imagined that?...

_God, please say I imagined that…_

And again, even as he stared at Raven's lifeless body, he saw the tiny jerking movement against her abdomen as the baby's foot beat against the wall of its prison.

_Somehow, like him, the baby was still alive…_

But that was even creepier. _He_ wasn't dependent upon another life form; the baby was dependent on Raven for oxygen, nourishment, warmth… even if the electricity hadn't affected it – and he didn't see how it _couldn't_ have – it should still be dead, if Raven was…

But then, maybe… His heart skipped a beat and he gripped one of Raven's wrists, checking for a pulse. No, nothing… he checked her jugular…

Nothing. She wasn't breathing, either…

But the baby was still alive.

Maybe something it had inherited from _him?_ But Robin knew he was not unkillable, and besides, he _had_ died… and something had revived him. Had the same thing happened with his child? But why revive the baby and not its mother? It surely couldn't last long if Raven was dead…

Or could it?...

Freaked out all over again, Robin once more got that urge to kill whatever was within Raven's womb, even if there was now no danger of it harming Raven. How _could_ it, now that she was…

Robin jumped as he heard a distinct, heavy noise from beyond the dark warehouse. A voice, talking… a voice he recognised.

_Terra_…

Robin panicked; Slade had obviously sent her to check that everything was in order and the Teen Titans were satisfactorily dead. What could he do?

He could throw himself down again, pretend he was dead… but accomplished actor as he was, he wasn't _that_ good. He couldn't go for very long without breathing at all. No, he had to hide. He didn't have to time to escape, Terra's voice was coming closer and closer…

He stood up, waving his flaming torch around. Right in the far corner was a pile of crates that had not been exploded; he ran at them, throwing down his torch where it went out with a loud hiss on the wet floor. Ignoring it, and hoping that Terra had not heard it, he leapt head-first behind the crates, rolling over and landing in a heap in the tight space behind them. He got as comfortable as possible – which wasn't very comfortable at all, considering it was such a small gap – and kept very quiet and still, just as Batman had taught him all those years ago, using the darkness and silence to his advantage.

Oh, sometimes it paid off being the Batman's child…

"And remember, Terra," Slade's voice ordered through his apprentice's earpiece, "do _not_ touch them, or the floor, or _anything_, understand? You'll get electrocuted."

"I understand." Terra's voice was slightly disjointed as she entered the burnt-out warehouse, standing atop a large chunk of rock, which she was floating along quite easily. She carried a large lantern in one hand, which cast around a fair amount of light.

Behind the crates, Robin forced himself to breathe deeply and calmly and, above all, inaudibly. Terra couldn't see him, he knew she couldn't, and as long as he kept quiet she wouldn't find him. Maybe this time two weeks ago Robin would have tried to reason with the earthmover, but a lot had changed since then. Terra had obviously known about this, but she hadn't stopped it. The Teen Titans had once been her friends, Beast Boy once – for a very, very short space of time, granted – her boyfriend.

And she had let them die; she had allowed Slade to give the order to murder them.

Robin was beyond reasoning with her now. She might as well have killed them herself, for all the help she had given them – _none_. And he didn't know if it was true, but he had a feeling that Terra was under strict orders to do away with any Titans who had "miraculously" not died; well, Robin had a pretty good feeling he fell into that category.

He'd already died once; it had hurt and he hadn't liked it. He didn't want to die again.

"Everything seems fine, Slade," Terra said, seemingly to no-one.

Was he imagining it, or did Terra sound… _upset?..._

"They're dead?" Robin heard Slade's voice ring out through the empty warehouse as clearly as though he was standing in the room next to him. "All five of them? You're sure they're dead?"

"I… _yes_," Terra confirmed, shining the lantern around. "They're all just lying on the floor… the robot's still sparking…"

_Don't talk about them like that_, Robin thought furiously. _Don't talk about them like you don't know them, like you never cared about them, and they never cared about you…_

But Terra's voice was quavering; he could hear it clearly now. As though she was trying not to cry. The thought that Terra was near tears only made him angrier.

_Oh, you cry now, when it's too late. I didn't see you coming to help us when we were getting electrocuted…_

"Excellent," Slade hissed through the earpiece. "Count them off for me, please."

"Um…" Terra shone the light around. "Ok, there's Cyborg… and there's Starfire… and there's… _whoa_…"

"What?" Slade snapped over the intercom. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I…" Terra moved the rock over to where Raven lay on her back.

Behind the crates, Robin shifted slightly, completely silently, watching Terra through a gap in the heavy wooden boxes, his eyes narrowed. Terra was crouching on her platform of rock over Raven, simply staring at the telekinetic's swollen abdomen.

"Jeez, Slade, the seer told us she was _pregnant_, but…" Terra trailed off, shaking her blonde head.

"But _what?_" Slade barbed. "She's been pregnant for a little over a week. What difference should it make?"

"A _week?_" Terra snorted. "Make that _six months_. She's _huge_."

"What?" Slade snapped for the third time. "Six months? Are you sure?"

"Slade, I'm not kidding," Terra told him. "She's really big. She's been pregnant for _way_ over a week, _that_ much is certain."

Robin heard Slade sigh through the intercom.

"_That damn seer_… No matter. She's definitely dead?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Then the child must be dead too. It makes no difference how far gone her pregnancy is."

_Dead my ass_, Robin thought sourly. _And how do **they** know about Raven's pregnancy, anyway?_

"What of the shape-shifter? And, most importantly, Terra, the _Avenger?_"

"I…" Terra looked briefly over her shoulder at Beast Boy, then quickly looked away again; in the light of her lantern Robin saw definite tears come to her eyes.

"Beast Boy's dead," Terra said softly.

"Excellent," Slade said briskly through the earpiece. "And Robin? Where's the Boy-wretched-Wonder?"

Terra stood again, shining her lantern around.

"I… I can't find him," she said, sounding confused.

"Well, find him!" Slade snapped. "Overload informed me that Robin was definitely killed; he was the first to die. He must be there, unless his corpse suddenly got up and walked out?"

_Close enough_, Robin thought dryly in reply to the soft chuckle of laughter he heard echoing through Terra's earpiece.

"I'll check it out," Terra murmured.

_Oh, peachy…_

"See that you do," Slade's voice replied icily. "Tear that warehouse apart if you have to, but _find_ him."

_This is **so** not a good day…_

"And if, for some reason, Terra, he is still alive," Slade went on silkily, "_kill him_."

_Yeah, this is a really,** really bad** day…_

"I understand, Slade."

Terra began to conduct a search of the warehouse, swinging her lantern around and throwing crates and debris aside. Robin began to panic; once or twice, as the lantern swung in the direction of his crates, his shadow was cast up on the wall. Terra didn't notice it even though it was pretty obvious, but Robin knew it was only a matter of time before she did. He had to get out of here, and fast. He'd already been swallowed whole and electrocuted that day; he didn't feel like making a Hat Trick and getting his skull crushed by a boulder too.

Desperately he looked up and saw that the ceiling seemed to be made of wooden planks… no, it was _roof-space!_ Extra storage room, obviously. And right above him… was a square hole, the trap-door lying open; he could see the silver glint of the ladder tucked away beyond it. He couldn't get the ladder down, obviously; it would attract Terra's attention. And he was too scared to touch his belt to get his grappling hook out, knowing that it would start sparking at his electrical touch.

There was only one thing for it; he'd have to jump.

It was very, very high – impossible to jump.

Unless you were a trained acrobat.

Still, it was going to take some calculation. If he used the crates as a lift, he should be able to get enough height. But with Terra still wandering around looking for him – dead or alive, literally – he couldn't just happily climb up onto the crates and leap up into the roof-space. He would need to distract her somehow. And with her getting closer and closer to his hiding-place by the second, he needed to think of something _fast_.

Ok, Terra wasn't facing him, and he could hear Slade's voice addressing her through her earpiece. That meant she couldn't hear _him_ as well. He pulled a birdarang from his belt, wincing as it sparked at his touch, leaned over the crates and hurled it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. Metal bounced off metal, creating more sparks as the now-charged birdarang hit the corrugated steel wall.

Terra gasped and jumped, and Robin distinctly heard Slade snap "What the hell was _that?!_" through his apprentice's earpiece.

"Big mistake, Robin," he heard Terra mutter as she started off in the direction of the wall.

Wasting no time, Robin silently climbed up onto the crates, elevating himself a few extra precious feet. He looked up, took a deep breath…

_Haley's Circus, don't fail me now…_

He leapt, straining every muscle in his lithe body to the limit. He caught onto the edge of the hole, swinging there for a few seconds. Then he swung forwards until his feet hit the ceiling, building himself up some leverage; he swung backwards again, arching his back and flipping up into the roof-space. He landed lightly in a catlike crouch and straightened up, wiping his forehead.

_You can take the boy out of the circus…_

Being an ex-Flying Grayson had its advantages too, just as much as being Batman's ex-protégé did.

Grinning despite his grief for his friends, Robin moved right back so that he could see out of the square hole, but in such a way that if Terra looked straight up _she_ would not be able to see _him_. There were more crates up here, so that if she decided to look around up here he could dive behind them.

"Birdarang," Terra muttered over at the far wall. The thing was still sparking and she knew better than to pick it up.

"So he's still alive." Slade sounded furious. "_He's still alive_…"

"I'll find him, Slade," Terra vowed solemnly.

"You had better," Slade replied shortly. "And… bring him to _me_, Terra. Bring him to me _alive_, and I'll kill him myself."

Robin shivered at the sound of Slade's malicious tone.

_No thanks, not after last time…_

Terra continued to conduct her search, tearing up a lump of concrete and hurling it at the crates Robin had been hiding behind only moments before. He swallowed as he heard the smashing of wood and clatter of corrugated metal, glad that he had thought to get the hell out of there when he had. Otherwise…

_Songbird-flavoured pancake? Eww…_

"He's not here, Slade," Terra said finally, after removing the chunk of concrete and searching through the broken debris. "He was, only a minute ago, but now he's gone…" She looked at the makeshift doorway Cyborg had cut into the wall. "He must have thrown the birdarang to distract me and escaped. He's probably long gone by now…"

"Hmm. Maybe…" Slade sounded thoughtful. "Very well, then. He probably went back to that wretched Tower. I'll send over a commando unit to tear the place apart. Meanwhile, Terra… bring that warehouse down on the other Titans' carcasses. Give them a proper "burial"…"

"Yes, Slade…" Terra took one last, lingering look at Beast Boy's fallen form, then walked out of the warehouse via Cyborg's "door". Once safely outside she concentrated her energy, her eyes glowed bright yellow…

Robin felt the whole place shaking, right down to the foundations. Terra was going to bring the whole thing down… He heard support beams snapping as the foundations gave way, the whole thing seemed to sag inwards and downwards under the heavy metal roof. He was going to be killed all over again…

Unless he thought fast. He scrabbled to his feet and moved as fast as he could, leaping over crates and boxes, towards the far wall of the storage area. It wasn't too far, as he had been so near the wall anyway; ignoring the sparks from his fingertips, he took three explosive discs from his belt and slapped them on the wall, then stepped backwards as he heard the three warning _beeps_ to detonation. He was thrown backwards by the explosion, which blew a hole in the wall. Without further thought he leapt through it, freefalling to the ground below outside. He landed heavily and straightened up, just as the whole warehouse collapsed on itself like a house of cards in a gust of wind.

Burying his friends amid the rubble and twisted metal and broken wood and glass.

He felt numb watching it; if they hadn't been dead when he had checked on them – and they _had_ been – they were certainly dead now. He simply didn't know what to do next; there was no-one to lead, or no-one to lead _him_…

_Lost_…

"_You bastard!_" Terra's voice screamed from behind him, making him whip around, his fists clenched. She was standing there in front of him, her hair all over her face and tears streaking her cheeks; her eyes were wide, glazed – she looked seriously demented.

"There you are!" Terra shrieked at him, advancing on him. "I've had Slade screaming in my ear to find you and kill you, and you've been here the whole time!"

She lunged at him and Robin lost his last shred of patience with her. He sidestepped her clumsy blow and spun into a powerful roundhouse kick, his heel catching her on the side of the head. She collapsed instantly, out cold.

"Terra?" Robin heard Slade's voice inquire impatiently through the microphone. "Terra, what's going on?"

Robin reached down, pushed Terra's hair aside and removed her earpiece. It sparked in his fingers and gave up the ghost; he threw it to the floor and crushed it underfoot, just to be sure.

Looking up he saw that his bike was exactly where he had left it; he decided that the best thing to do first of all was to go back to Titans Tower and work from there. He looked down at Terra's fallen body one final time and scowled.

"_Bitch_."

He stepped over her, making for his bike. He retrieved his helmet, turned the keys in the ignition and kicked the bike into gear, heading home.

Alone.

* * *

Lame cop-out? Why is Robin alive again when the others aren't? Why does he suddenly seem to have "superpowers"? He DID die, BTW - I wasn't lying last chapter... 

Well… there are a few reasons. One of them I'm not going to tell you (although I'm certain you have a few speculations of your own), but quite frankly and most importantly…

He's the main character of this storyline. And there's not much of a story without him. Therefore…

But I do wonder if anyone can guess where we go from here.

In other news…

**_Small Print_** has another new music video, if anyone would like to take a look, created by Coolteenzz. Yet another fantastic piece of work, to _Pushing Me Away_. A link to all of her videos can be found on my profile. :)

**Narroch06 and I **are working on another fic together, entitled _Wertham's Law_. It is a BatmanxRobin slash story (yes, you read that right) but more importantly it is _satire_, complying to the accusations of homoerotic relations between Bruce and Dick made by psychiatrist Dr Fredric Wertham in his 1954 book _Seduction of the Innocent_. It seems serious, but it isn't – I dunno, most people are into angsty romance, but that is humour/romance, so… Only the prologue and the first chapter are up and can be found on my profile, if you are interested… well, plug over…

**_Trouble in Tokyo_: **I have FINALLY seen it, thanks to Narroch06! All I can say is… whoa, it was pretty damn awesome, no? And aww, the RobinxStarfire-ness… I do love that pairing, despite this being a primarily RobinxRaven fic… :) I am so glad they finally kissed!

**Lastly…** my friend, **letfearruleyou**, decided to make her debut into the _Teen Titans_ fanfiction world with a rewrite of the Starfire-centric episode _Transformation_. I helped out here and there with the planning and I think it's looking pretty good for a first attempt (plus I promised to plug it for her) so if anyone is interested in taking a look at a different take on that episode (and let's face it, it wasn't Star's shining moment…), you can find a link to her profile on mine, right at the top. It's only three chapters so far and they are all very short. Please, someone take pity on her and review… --

You are now leaving Plug City Central…

TTYS!

RobinRocks xXx


	6. Shock to the System

First of all, the thankyous are at the bottom today, because I have a few things to say. But _thankyou_ to all who reviewed!

Call this my "Pre-Halloween Edition" of _Remember the Titans_. Halloween is like my _favourite_ public international holiday thingie, and for this reason I have something very special planned for tomorrow. I'll tell you a little more about that in a moment, but for now… Yup, this is a Halloween run-up event, especially for you. This chapter, _Shock to the System_, is so-called for two reasons. If I was to tell you that the first is that it is actually the tag-line from fellow WB teen superhero cartoon _Static Shock_, and given Robin's new "power", it should be fairly obvious why it is named such. The second reason should become apparent by the end.

The chapter itself deals a little more with Robin's feelings concerning the sudden deaths of his friends; and his resulting decision, made around halfway through, brings us to the next big step in the storyline of _Remember the Titans_. Call this chapter something of a cathartic period before the next big shake up. As _for_ that resulting decision… without giving anything away, I can guarantee the lot of you will smack your foreheads when you read it, asking yourselves _why_ it didn't dawn on you that this was where it was going. It really _is_ rather simple…

Okay, my Halloween Special. I have actually written a brand new fic (with chapters and everything!) especially for the occasion. The first chapter will obviously be put up tomorrow, and will then run weekly. It has about seven chapters (not sure yet; I haven't finished it yet, actually…), with journal entries in between. Yes, you read that right; _journal entries_. It's a very "special" fic because it is completely different to anything I have written before; specifically, it is an Elseworlds fic, which is a coined term used by DC to refer to (generally) _Batman_ storylines which are out of the regular DCU continuum. Examples include _Gotham by Gaslight_ (Batman vs Jack the Ripper) and _Kingdom Come _(set in the future). I won't call my new fic an AU because I don't think an AU and an Elseworlds are _quite_ the sane thing.

To tie in with Halloween, the fic (_Teen Titans_, of course) is obviously of the horror genre; it is also heavily integrated with the works of Edgar Allan Poe, from chapter titles right down to the odd line showing up in the narrative. It's set in 1845, has a supernatural twist, includes vampires, and is (surprise surprise) Robin-centric. I think it's quite different to anything you will have read in this section before (_TT_ in the Victorian age! Or what was the equivalent of in the US… Queen Victoria was on the throne over here in Britain in 1845), so you might want to have a look at that tomorrow. _Pleeeeeaaaaase_?

It is called _Nevarmore_. Not _Nev**e**rmore_. _Nev**a**rmore_. There is a reason for it. And I command you to read it.

In other brief news before I actually let you _read_ this chapter;

Tomorrow, Halloween, is also the one-year birthday of that infamous RobinxSlade fic you all love, known as… _Small Print_. Just thought you might like to know. And speaking of _Small Print_, not only does it have a new video (_Pushing Me Away_) by **Coolteenzz**, but the _Small Print_ shrine created by **Rocky-White Wolf of Curses** also has an awesome banner, produced by **Worren**. If you want to see it (it's really cool, honestly) you can find a link to the shrine on my profile; you'll see the banner immediately. You can also still see the video via a link to Coolteenzz's videos on my profile.

In related news… my co-writer **Narroch06** decided it was time for a change and despite my threats shortened her pen-name to simply **Narroch**. Seemingly irrelevant, but just in case anyone gets confused about what happened to the "06" part…

And last but not least… anyone get the _Teen Titans Go!_ comic book? Wonder Girl was in issue #36! WONDER GIRL! Yay, I was so pleased to see her! She looked awesome. I wonder why they were allowed to put her in the comics but not the cartoon. It's very strange. Still, better than nothing. Yay for Donna!

And now, after much delay…

Shock to the System

Entering Titans Tower was a dream.

It felt so strange to be alone, to walk down the empty hallway towards the front room and know that his friends would not be there, arguing or watching TV or playing Game-Station.

To know that he would never again find Starfire in the kitchen whipping up some gross Tamaranean recipe for them all to try.

To know that he would never accidentally walk in on Raven while she was mediating in the gym.

To know that he would never have another play-off against Cyborg and Beast Boy on _Super Ninja Fury_.

He entered the front room and simply stood in the centre looking at the ceiling. It just _felt_ so empty, and _he_ did too. It was like the deaths of his parents all over again; that utter raw indescribable _implacable_ pain simply eating away at his soul…

Batman had picked up the pieces last time; he could probably pick them up again. But the pain never went away, not for good. Bruce knew that better than anybody, and Robin knew it too. There wasn't a day went past where he didn't think about his mom and dad, but at least he'd always had someone to lean on, first Bruce and Alfred, and then his friends; the Teen Titans.

Now the only Titan left, and with Bruce off all over the place hunting for the remaining Arkham escapees, he had no-one.

_The Teen Titans are dead, and I should have died with them._

He didn't know how he had survived – or been _revived_, as it were – but he wished he hadn't. Death was ignorance – ignorance was bliss. Better to feel nothing at all than this pain, this knowledge of loss…

He couldn't stay here – this place had become a memorial. Everything was just how it had been left as the Teen Titans had rushed out into the city in response to the Titan Alert; Beast Boy's half-eaten bag of _Happy Buddha Tofu Chips_ was lying the floor, its contents spilled everywhere, just as the shape-shifter had left it. The Game-Station was still plugged in, and Cyborg's can of Coca-Cola still sat on the DVD shelf on top of _Wicked Scary_. A pile of junk sat on the coffee table, including Cyborg's new edition of _Car Monthly_, two Beatles albums, outdated TV guides and Raven's Sudoku book, all exactly as it had been left. Starfire's _Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi_ dolls were perched on the back of the couch.

Suddenly Robin had to get away. Just looking at it all… it was such a normal scene, but now it hurt to look upon it.

Everything was exactly as the Teen Titans had left it.

In what must have been the very last hour of their lives.

He climbed the stairs up through the empty tower, his footsteps seeming to echo tenfold. He reached the top floor, going down to the bathroom first to clean himself up; he could still feel the Plasmus-sludge in his hair.

He entered the bathroom, flicked on the light and shut the door behind him, feeling slightly more secure for being in a closed-off room. That was the thing about bathrooms; you were _supposed_ to be in there alone. Therefore it didn't feel quite so empty.

_Quite_.

He crossed to the sink and placed his hands on the rim, leaning over it and trying to think of what to do. Find Bruce seemed like the most logical choice, but where to find him? Bruce was all over the place; he could be in Gotham, or he could be in Metropolis, or he could even be in Jump itself, or Steel, or…

He could go to Gotham, to Wayne Manor… Alfred would be there, _he_ would know where Bruce was. And Alfred was a good listener. Yeah… he wanted to talk to Alfred; the prim and proper Englishman was still to this day one of Robin's very favourite people, and not only because he made truly great sandwiches. Maybe… maybe he could even work up the courage to tell Alfred about the baby…

_But_…

Robin's head jerked up again as he realised it – the baby _had_ to be dead now, even if the electricity hadn't killed it. Raven's body would have been crushed beneath the collapsed warehouse; surely the baby would have been crushed too? There was _no way in Hell_ it could still alive after that… He felt terrible for thinking such horrible thoughts, wishing the death of his own unborn child, but he couldn't help it. That baby was _not_ normal… and it wouldn't have surprised him if it was _still_ alive.

It was then that he saw his reflection in the mirror above the sink – it was all he could do to quell his shriek. His hair had definitely seen better days… Although, of course, it figured; he _had_ been electrocuted. It wasn't literally standing on end like Einstein's, but his carefully-gelled spikes were fried and jagged, with stray hairs sticking out all over the place. Not to mention the remnants of Plasmus… He had to do something with his hair before he went any further. Somehow the preoccupation with his hair was calming – it made everything seem almost… _normal_.

He pulled off his gloves and turned on the hot tap, putting in the plug and filling the sink up. He unclasped his necklace and pulled off his cape and then his shirt, throwing them to the bathroom floor with his gloves. Then he stuck his head under the running tap, reaching across for the shampoo, barely noticing the tiny sparks flying from his dark hair as the water touched it…

…And the bathroom light blew out.

Robin jumped as the _bang_ sounded and sparks flew from the fluorescent light above and the entire bathroom was plunged into darkness. He threw his head back, squinting upwards through the darkness and absently putting a hand to his wet hair. He yelped in shock as a tiny streak of lightning shot from his wet hair to his fingertips, being absorbed back into him. He stared at his hand in horror, hardly able to believe it. What was _happening?..._

He had done that. He had blown out the light when he had put his head under the water. But _how?_ He knew of beings with powers over electricity, other superheroes… Thunder's brother Lightning. Static Shock, from over in Dakota.

But _he_ wasn't a _super_hero in the sense of the others. Neither he nor Batman actually had any powers to speak of… So how was he doing this? It seemed that he was still charged from being electrocuted, but somehow had some form of control over the voltage still coursing throughout his body, and rather than being harmed by it and electrocuting himself again, he seemed to be immune to it.

_But how?_ He was human; he wasn't alien as Starfire was, he wasn't robotically-enhanced as Cyborg was… He was vulnerable to the things that threatened all mortals. He was _Bat_boy, not _Super_boy. Fire, water, poison, gunshot, sharp objects, gas, electricity… all those things could kill him. Yet now electricity didn't seem to be harming him; it _had_, because it had _killed_ him, but now he seemed to have returned from the dead with an all-new control over the very thing that had taken his life.

He finally seemed to have a _superpower_.

_Control over fire would have been cooler, but still…_

He finished washing his hair in the dark, this time taking notice of the sparks crackling around him whenever he touched the water, and rubbed it dry using a towel. Then he pulled the switch for the over-mirror light; its proper use was for applying make-up, but he used it to gel his hair. Once he had got it looking satisfactorily spiky he pulled on his shirt and cape and gloves and carefully threaded his Blood Diamond around his neck again and left the bathroom – as he had pulled out the plug to release the water he noticed that the electrical charge he seemed to have left on the basin and on the water flowed back into his fingertips.

It hit him then.

He didn't have a _superpower_ – he was a _channel_ for electricity. It flowed through him without hurting him, and because his body was still charged with excess voltage he only _seemed_ to have it at his disposal. It would probably run out eventually, unless he kept charging himself up. And if he could _channel_ it… he could _control_ it.

It wasn't a superpower. But it _was_ a weapon.

_So_… to use it effectively, he would have to concentrate it and channel it through something else that conducted electricity; something wet, something made of metal or something that had circuits, etc.

Or a person; as he well knew, people conducted electricity very well…

He stood in the corridor outside the bathroom and thought for a second. He could feel the electricity coursing through him if he concentrated… the floor was metal…

He outstretched a gloved hand, his fingers splayed, concentrating on the lethal energy he could moving though him, using him for a channel… well, he was going to channel it right back… He wanted it to go to the floor, he wanted it to go from his fingers to the metal floor—

And it _did_. One second he was standing there concentrating on it, the next a bolt of thin white lightning had shot from his fingertips towards the metal floor, which conducted it. He breathed out heavily, actually surprised at how easy it had been. It just seemed to come to him naturally, the knowledge of how to control it.

As though he had always had the ability.

But he hadn't; he'd had it for less than an hour, yet he knew how to use it…

Okay, now he wanted it to come back… and it shot back up from the metal floor and was absorbed into his fingertips. It was easy… it was almost _too_ easy… But then, Starfire had always told him that _her_ abilities were easy to use, and so were Beast Boy's. You just had to know _how_ to use them. When Raven and Starfire had swapped bodies it had been difficult for them to use each other's powers, simply because they didn't know how.

But Robin knew how to use _this_ power; he didn't know _how_ he knew, but he _did_. And _that_ was why it was easy.

And within minutes he was commanding it to do all sorts of things; he could make a vein of lightning bounce back up off the floor and return to his hand, as though it was a birdarang; he could make it into a blade; and he could charge up his own birdarangs and metal Bo staff to make them even more lethal. He could blow circuits, charge water as Overload had done, and he found that he could also suppress it so that he didn't blow up everything that he touched. The control seemed to be coming too easily to him, but he wasn't complaining.

And Slade was in for the shock of his life when Robin turned up to seek his revenge, "shock" being the operative word. If nothing else, he was going to use this newfound ability to stop Slade once and for all, to truly live up to his prophetic title and avenge his friends.

But first he would go and see Alfred, try and contact Bruce…

He made his way down the hall to his room, bouncing a ball of electricity as though it was rubber. He opened the panel with minimal sparking and entered the dark room beyond, making straight for his bed. He wanted to get the Blade of Azar from the box under his bed.

Well, it was _metal_. Metal conducted electricity…

He sat on the made covers of his bed and reached underneath it for the box. Once he had got hold of it he opened it and fished the knife out, standing up again and slipping it into the back of his belt, where it was hidden by his cape. He kicked the empty box back under his bed and went to the window.

It was starting to get dark, and beyond he could see Jump City beginning to glitter with lights. Little did those civilians know that all but one of their sworn protectors were dead.

The Teen Titans were no more. It didn't seem like only that morning he had stood in here and gaped at Raven's prematurely swollen stomach; it seemed years ago since he and Cyborg had taken it in turns to hammer Beast Boy on _Super Ninja Fury_, when in reality it had only been that afternoon. Since waking up that morning to the "joyful" sound of Beast Boy singing the _Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi_ theme song in the shower he felt as though he had aged twenty very long, hard years.

He left his room and started down the hall again. As he passed Starfire's room… he suddenly got a mad urge to go in. He was torn; Star was dead, something he didn't want to be reminded of so strongly. Going into her room was only going to make it even more painfully obvious. However… he didn't know what it was, he just… wanted to go in. Maybe for comfort or something, he didn't know…

He slid the panel back and entered Starfire's room quietly, as though afraid of waking her. But he knew there was no way to wake Starfire now, not when she lay dead, buried beneath the ruin of an entire warehouse. Biting back fresh tears, he moved further into her room, flicking on a small lamp. He was immediately struck by how… _pink…_ everything was. He'd never been in Starfire's room before; at least not for long enough to really notice the interior design. _She_, however, was always sneaking into _his_ to see what he was up to. Her bed was circular, with – surprise, surprise – pink sheets and fluffy cushions. The walls were pink, the carpet was pink, the curtains… were purple, actually, and so was the ceiling. But everything else seemed to be pink.

_Painfully _pink. It reminded him of (_eww_) Kitten.

Why had he wanted to come in here? As a last reminder of the alien girl? Or… something else?...

He touched his necklace absently as he looked around – he was starting to wish he'd brought sunglasses. Or a can of black spray-paint. He moved almost unwittingly to her desk; there were a few books lying on it, and he picked them up absently.

_The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi World Tour Scrapbook, The Amazing World of Mould and Fungi… _and some other book, written in a weird language that he was unable to read; Tamaranean.

He put Starfire's books down and ran his gloved hand across her desk. There were several pink fluffy pens, and a pink photo frame housing a picture of the Teen Titans together, enveloped in a group hug. Robin picked up the frame and smiled faintly at the picture – it was one of those one-of-a-kind pictures, where the mood could never be captured again. Cyborg was in the very middle, giving Beast Boy a friendly noogie with one hand. The other was on Raven's lap, securing her as she perched on his shoulder, her hood down and actually genuinely smiling. Robin was sitting on the half-robot's other shoulder; Starfire was hovering behind him, her arms around his shoulders, beaming happily. They had _all_ been truly happy that day; even Raven, who, of course, had pretended otherwise.

Days that would never be again…

He put the picture down and was about to turn away from the desk, when another book caught his eye. It was – big surprise – pink, but not fluffy, and was fastened with a silver clasp in the shape of a heart.

A diary? He reached for it, then withdrew his hand. No, he shouldn't; he should respect Starfire's privacy, even now that she was dead. But then the glittery purple swirling writing across the front cover made him change his mind.

It didn't read _Diary_ – it read _Scrapbook_.

He opened the clasp and flipped the book open to the first page. It simply read Starfire's name and the date on which she had started putting the book together. He flipped through it idly, occasionally stopping to glance with interest at a page. It really was very nicely put together; Starfire had very neat handwriting, although not everything she had written was in English, but in her native Tamaranean. Perhaps the more personal stuff… She'd stuck in more photographs, little bits and pieces, sequins and glitter; he recognised the picture of himself and Starfire, the one he had torn in half a few weeks ago in his temper following his ordeal in Arkham Asylum. She had taped it back together and glued it in, drawing a little border of pink sparkly hearts around it. She had accounted a lot of incidents, much like a diary, but it was not as personal; it was more like a picture book of their lives. She'd written about the "Red X Thing", and about his becoming Slade's apprentice; she'd written about meeting Terra for the first time, and all the girl-stuff she and the earth-mover had done together, the things Raven wouldn't join in with… She'd written about Terra's betrayal, and about her concern for Beast Boy, and she'd written about Kitten's prom and how displeased she had been about it, and about the horrors of Transformation, the "Joker Incident", and even their time in Azarath… it went on and on, and there was _more_ stuff that he couldn't even read.

And he hadn't realised that Starfire was so good at drawing, but the book was filled with cute little pictures of them all, neatly coloured in with felt tip pens and embellished with glitter and sequins. There were lots of pictures of himself, he noticed, and of Raven freaking out, and of Starfire herself with lots of hearts around her. There was also a whole page taken up by a drawing of a bottle of mustard, with hearts all around it, and the opposite page explaining the many wonders of the sauce.

It was the unfamiliar drawing he noticed as he flicked the page that caught his eye; it was of Starfire, her eyes replaced by huge cartoon hearts, with her arms around someone in black, long dark hair down their back. He put it close to his face and saw the finer detail; the black mask on the cartoon guy's face, the little blue bird-shaped symbol on the front of his outfit.

Who the heck was _this_ guy?

And then he saw the label underneath the cartoon, with an arrow pointing to the guy in question; it read "Nightwing".

_Nightwing? Who the **hell** is… ohh… **I'm** Nightwing…_

Yeah, he remembered now; Starfire had been thrown forwards 20 years into the future during the battle with Warp, a time-travelling thief from 100 years into the future, which happened to be on the day of "Blorthog", the Tamaranean festival of friendship. The fight had been over Warp's theft of the Clock of Eternity, an ornate timepiece capable of time travel far more complex than the kind Warp's suit could perform. That was why he had wanted it; _that_, and the fact that it was priceless in his future world. But when Warp had attempted to return to the future with his prize, Starfire had been taken with him, breaking the suit in the process. She and Warp had been cast 20 years into the future, instead of Warp's intended 100. There the alien girl had learned of the devastating future that would become; the Teen Titans had split up following Starfire's disappearance, Cyborg becoming obsolete as his last power cell had died, Beast Boy an overweight bald "One-Man Zoo" in a freakshow, Raven's fragile mind utterly devastated by the loneliness that had consumed her. It had seemed, as Starfire had recounted the tale to them once back in the present day, that Robin had been the only member of the estranged teen team to have made out reasonably okay; in the form of an older Robin, now known as "Nightwing".

But… wait, that didn't fit. The Teen Titans were _dead_; they had been killed less than an hour ago, by Overload on Slade's command. How could they have grown up to become what Starfire had told them, if they were dead?

_Unless_… Robin stared at the picture of Nightwing, his mind racing. The Clock of Eternity… it induced time travel, right? The Teen Titans had died, yet in the future… they were still alive. So, something must have happened. Something must have brought them back to life, revived them from death as _he_ had been revived.

Something, or some_one._

And what if that someone was _him?_ What if he, in a future time, had used the Clock of Eternity to go back a few hours and stop the Titans from dying? If given that time back, he knew he would be able to prevent their electrocution, because he would know what was going to happen. He would know to _make sure_ that Cinderblock was down and out, he would know to ensure that no-one was standing on the floor; if they were in the air, then they couldn't conduct the electricity flowing through the water.

Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this was what he was meant to do. He, Robin, was meant to go to the museum and get the Clock of Eternity, use it to go back a few hours and prevent the Teen Titans from being electrocuted to death. That _had_ to be it, otherwise how could Starfire have met them 20 years in the future?

If given that time back, he would not have let his friends – his team – die.

He'd let them die once; he wouldn't let them die a second time.

_Thankyou, Star…_

He shut Starfire's book again and left her room, sprinting down the hall to the elevator. All thoughts of going to Gotham to cry on Alfred's shoulder had been pushed from his mind; he would save them, he'd bring them back to life…

He got into the elevator and punched in the button for the ground floor. It started to move but his mind was elsewhere, already revising how to break into the museum. It was _stealing_, he knew – but he was only going to _borrow_ it. He would put it back once he had used it to save his friends. He could drop it back on the way home after their clear victory.

No problem.

A sudden crashing sound met his ears and the elevator slammed to a halt, throwing him to the floor. Dazed, he got to his knees, shaking his head. What the hell-?

Another loud crash, an explosion… they were beyond the elevator, right inside the Tower, but with the lift jammed he was stuck. The light suddenly went out and he knew that someone had cut the power. Would have been a problem for him.

Once.

He got to his feet and took a birdarang from his belt, using it to prise the metal casing from the control box. He threw the casing aside, reached into the control box and grabbed a handful of the dead wires. And as easily as though he had always had this power, he surged thousands of volts through them. They came back to life – a little too effectively. The elevator screeched down the shaft to the ground floor at breakneck speed, actually throwing him upwards into the air. He seemed to levitate there for a few seconds… then was painfully slammed to the floor again as the elevator smashed to a halt, completely giving up the ghost.

_Ouch… I'm gonna need a chiropractor after I'm done saving the world…_

He rolled over and staggered to his feet, pressing the button for the doors to open.

Nothing happened.

_Duh_…

**000**

The front room was in chaos; fifty-odd of Slade's black-and-amber robot commandos were utterly trashing the place on their master's orders. They smashed the coffee table, tore the couch to shreds, pulled down the DVD and bookshelves, upended the CD rack, shattered the screen of the TV/computer mainframe, pounded in the door, broke the windows…

And their reign of chaos went on quite unremittingly.

Until the doors of the broken elevator suddenly started to spark violently, and then exploded outwards, the heavy twisted metal crushing three commandos in the process.

The remaining commandos – and there really _were_ quite a lot of them – all stopped what they were doing and turned to observe as the Avenger stepped out of the completely-annihilated elevator, apparently unruffled. He was dusting down the front of his red shirt, seemingly not noticing the god-knows-how-many minions standing in front of him trashing his front room.

They had been given two orders; one had been to destroy Titans Tower.

The other had been to destroy the last remaining Titan; Robin – the Boy Wonder; the Avenger; the Batman's child…

They all simultaneously dropped whatever they had been in the middle of breaking/smashing/stamping mercilessly on and started towards him as one solid, deadly unit.

And the Avenger simply looked up at them lazily, not even going to his utility belt for a weapon.

He didn't need one.

He slammed his right foot down onto the floor, sending 500,000 volts through each and every robot. They stopped short and sparked and malfunctioned and shorted out one after another, toppling like dominoes.

50 robot commandos in one single shot. Far more constructive than his usual methods, and _so_ much more fun.

_The boy done good…_

And he stepped over them and walked out of the room, not one single hair out of place. Of course, it helped that he had half a tub of hair gel on it – it was rock hard, the spikes pretty lethal – but it was the principal.

_I could get used to this…_

Once he got into the hall it became obvious that there were far more than 50 commandos here; the hall was trashed, and he could hear more smashing sounds from upstairs. He knew they would wreck absolutely everything; the kitchen, the gym, the bathroom, the Evidence Room, all their bedrooms…

But it didn't matter, because he was going to put time back and all of this would become undone. And then, when they had defeated Cinderblock, Plasmus and Overload, they'd go and kick Slade's ass too and all would be right with the world… The feeling he got when he thought of kicking Slade's butt wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, but it was close enough. He seriously owed that guy a butt-kicking…

He had left his bike in the garage and so headed back down there to retrieve it. However, when he got there, he was pissed off to discover that twenty-odd commandos had beaten him down there and had already made short work of his precious R-cycle; now they were starting on the T-car. Enraged, _he_ made short work of _them_, then turned back to his bike. It was torn to pieces, utterly dismantled, the smooth red bodywork twisted where they had ripped it apart to get at the engine and circuits.

_Now_ how was he going to get to Downtown Jump? He could walk, but it was a very long one, especially considering Titans Tower was situated on its very own little island and the only access to land and vice versa was via a very long carved out tunnel below Gotham City River.

_Gotham… hang on a second… the Bat-cycle!_

He still had the thing, an older model than his R-cycle, shoved away at the back of the garage, covered in an old white sheet. He had ridden that for a while, before acquiring the more personalised R-cycle. But now that his favoured mode of transport was in about fifty different bits, he didn't have much of a choice.

He ran across the garage to the very back corner, grasping the white sheet draped over the bike to prevent it getting dusty and tugging it off. He threw it aside and heaved the bike out its corner. It was a beautiful motorcycle, streamlined but very powerful, painted shining black. Trouble was, the mudguards were scalloped like bat wings, as were the handle bars, and the Bat-insignia was painted on the side of the bodywork. There was nothing wrong with the bike – how could there be? Bruce was filthy stinkin' _rich_ – but it was the design that had made him shove it to the back of the garage to pursue his _own_ image. In fact, he had a sneaking feeling that it was actually a _better_ bike than his R-cycle.

_Well, bats will be bats, right?..._

He'd lost the keys, but that was okay. He slung one leg over the leather saddle and, working quickly, used a birdarang to loosen up the circuit box as he had done in the elevator. A touch of electrical magic later and the bike was roaring, revving and ready to go. Unfortunately the sound seemed to attract more commandos, but by the time they had pounded down into the garage he had already screeched out into the night heading for the museum, leaving them to choke on his dust.

**TT**

The museum was utterly empty; it had taken him very little time at all to break in, finding it as easy as Slade had all but a few weeks ago. There were no guards or anything; they had all been called away in an emergency situation to help prevent the sieges now taking place in Jump City. Robin didn't know how long the Titans had been dead; it had been afternoon when they had raced to their deaths at Overload's hand – daylight, as he remembered. Yet it had clearly been dark when he had awoken from his own death, night-time as it was now. He must have been dead… maybe four or five hours before whatever revived him had got around to it.

And in that time everything seemed to have gone to Hell. Slade's commandos were everywhere, destroying stores and restaurants and Jump's new mall on Main Street; Overload, Cinderblock and Plasmus – now reformed yet again from his sleeping state – were all in on the action too. It seemed as though Slade had began his demolition of the city as soon as he had been brought the news of the Titans' deaths, but had sent Terra to check that they really _were_ dead hours later.

_What's up with that?..._

And with no Teen Titans to stop him, Slade would soon have taken over Jump City. And then he would undoubtedly move on to Gotham, and then perhaps Metropolis… no easy feat, with the likes of Batman, Superman and the rest of the Justice League skulking around, but if Slade could somehow manage to unleash the Orb of Azarath's power, no-one would be able to stop him, because Supes and all his super-pals would be as powerless as Batman was. And although _Batman_ was deadly in his own right, trained in martial arts, the _other_ Leaguers _weren't_.

Because _that_ worried him. The prophecy had said that he, the Avenger, had to die as part of the unlocking of the orb's power. And although he was alive _now_, he _had_ died. He had been dead for a good few hours before he had been revitalised. Did that count? The prophecy hadn't specifically stated that he had to _stay_ dead; it had merely said that he had to die after the sexual tainting of his soul.

And he _had_.

Did Slade have the key? Because if he had managed to get hold of it…

_Okay, it's no problem… you're about to throw a spanner in the works here…_

He remembered which room the Clock of Eternity was in from that last battle with Warp, even though it had been all those months ago. It really _was_ too easy to break in here; no wonder stuff was always getting swiped…

He found the room with no problems whatsoever, crossed to the glass case it was housed in and shorted out the electronic forcefield. He smashed the case with his staff, replacing it in his belt as he reached out and picked up the Clock of Eternity. For a clock it was heavy and he used both hands to carry it a fair way away from the broken case, setting it down on the floor. He then sat down cross-legged and started to examine it.

Ok, he had a vague idea of how it worked, having fooled around with it before to write his report for the crime files on the Warp case. He and Cyborg had practically taken it apart to figure it out, so he knew what he was supposed to do with it.

He removed its glass cover, gently setting it aside on the floor; then he picked it up and started to wind the clock backwards… He paused – how far did he want to go back? Was five hours enough?

No, he didn't know how long they had been dead. Ok; _ten_, just to be on the safe side. Ten hours ago would be more than enough. It didn't matter _when_ he went back to, as long as it was before they were electrocuted.

He meticulously wound the clock anticlockwise ten hours, then had to wait for the second hand to reach XII. As it did he slammed down the button-like device on the top of the clock, and he seemed to be thrown forwards into blackness by some invisible force; it felt like he had been kicked in the back. He clung grim death to the clock as he fell through that black oblivion, the very essence of time melting around him.

And then he slammed to the ground, being instantly reminded of his mental note to visit a chiropractor when he was done. He landed on top of the clock, but it did more damage to _him_ than vice versa, jabbing into his chest and stomach painfully.

He sat up, shaking his aching head, and reached for the glass dome of the clock – as part of the timepiece it still came with its other half even if it was not on it. He picked it up and replaced it, setting the clock between his legs as he looked up.

He should have been in the warehouse, or Titans Tower, or wherever he had been ten hours ago.

But he wasn't.

He was still in the museum, in the Clock of Eternity's chamber. But as he looked around, he saw that it had… _changed_. It was run-down, broken, thick with cobwebs, the ceiling and walls cracked…

What had happened? This wasn't ten hours ago…

He got to his feet, carrying the clock tightly, and made his way quickly back through the museum. It was utterly demolished. Had he accidentally gone _forwards_ ten hours instead?...

But no, it looked… so _old_. Ten hours from the present it might be broken like this, true, but not thick with cobwebs, not crumbling and dank and rotten, as though it had been abandoned for…

…_years_…

He burst outside and his breath caught.

And as he looked out over the devastated ruin of what had once been Jump City, his only thought was that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

* * *

…

Told you it was simple.

Time-travel. How unoriginal. But I wanted to do it, so… _nyah_! But how many of you are now asking yourselves why and how you didn't see this coming a mile off?

Although, of course, it's all gone wrong. And just where do we go from _here_? As for the Clock of Eternity… I'm not sure if it can actually induce time-travel, but for the sake of an argument… it is _fan_-fiction, after all…

Don't get excited about Robin's new powers; it may disappoint you to learn that he doesn't actually use them very much. He's hardly Static Shock. Sorry about that. And if you think his "power" is a little bit weird… hold on to that thought…

BTW, sorry about the frequent references to _Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi_. It _is_ something of an in-joke since Puffy AmiYumi sang the _Teen Titans_ theme song, but admittedly last summer when I wrote this chapter I had a bit of a _Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi_ obsession. It was new to British Cartoon Network and I really liked it… I even drew a picture of chibi Raven and Starfire as Ami and Yumi, which is on my joint DeviantART account…

Okay, thankyous;

**Narroch **(O Disobedient One with the New and Shiny Pen-Name… I bet _Superman_ wouldn't find falling out of the sky as amusing as you would… And damn, guess I'll have to try a bit harder at making you skip class. I tell you, **I** found it very easy… What is "Raiden Robin"? And why is he hot?); **Simmie **(Oh come on, Simmie dear – you know I'm not going to answer all those questions… The baby… and Raven… and Robin… and his powers… I'd love to tell you. But that would wreck it all, no?); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(you _laughed_? The Teen Titans were all electrocuted to death and then Robin came back to life to be faced with the revelation that he was the only one left, and you _laughed_? What kind of insensitive cartoon lover are _you_? Just kidding… glad you enjoyed it…); **Rocky-White Wolf of Curses **(of course Slade's pissed off; wouldn't _you_ be? And I just plugged Worren's wicked banner up above! It's totally cool – tell her we love it!); **Guardian of Azarath **(you wanted Robin to electrocute Terra? Jeez, does _anyone_ like her besides me? O.o Poor lil' Terra… And your speculations are very good. I can't tell you if they're right or wrong, though – you will find out soon enough…); **Green Gallant **(slash warning? Where? In chapter two? You mean the MarcusxJonathon stuff? Ugh, that's irrelevant, really… You want scary slash, read _Asylum_… Glad you liked it aside from that, though…); **Me **(not Meq… heh heh… An amusing game is _Tales of Symphonia_ – the main character, Lloyd, is voiced by Scott Menville, and therefore sounds identical to Robin. And Lloyd swears. A lot. So hearing a character yell out "You bastard!" in Robin's voice never fails to make me laugh… And what superpowers does Robin have (aside from being crazy)?); **Kami-Elf **(you like your angst, don't you? Glad this was moody enough for you…); **Flying02Fish **(a dream? Like I said, that _would_ be a lame cop-out, wouldn't it? And I am glad that someone else likes Terra – I try to portray her in quite a positive light since she is not very popular. You'll have to wait about the necklace, but great job on keeping an eye on it!); **Ray1 **(Robin has got some serious butt-kicking on his mind… or _did_ have until the content of the above chapter just completely threw his schedule off…); **Coolteenzz **(come on, five seasons and a movie should have shown you by now that Robin is not an easy one to knock off… and both Narroch and I are glad that the love (heh, how ironic) of _Small Print_ is spreading…); **Crazy Insomniac **(yup, poor lil' Robbie's a loner now… And rawr, _another_ Terra-hater? You'd better learn to like her pretty quick, my friend… Glad these updates brighten your day, and yeah, gotta love all the videos! All thanks to the talents of Coolteenzz, Flying02Fish and Citrus02Honey… Have you seen Rocky's shrines?); **Athena's Wings **(Athena's Wings is a nicer pen-name. It has an element of Wonder Woman to it (Goddess Athena, I guess…), which is more fitting than The Dragon's Fire, considering you are reading a _Teen Titans_ (DC) fic. Just my opinion. Anyway, I am so glad you are enjoying it, and again am so pleased you liked it enough to read all of _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_ in one go…); **Quinn and His Quill **(O.o Good grief, was than a "Bravo" from _Quinn_? I have certainly hit a nerve here… or you're just a bit weird in the head from bugging over _Another Touch of Death_… Your QED logic is rather terrifying – you appear to have thought this all out more carefully than I have… And don't get technical on me, Mr Science Whiz… Glad you liked it, though!); **YamiTai **(it was a good guess… I can't tell you if you're right or not, but you know that… Just stay tuned…); **LoopyLouise123 **(Robin die and then _stay_ dead? Since when does _that_ boy ever take no for an answer? Yup, Slade is a bastard, but we knew that from Season One – and loved him for it… Glad you're enjoying _Wertham's Law_ too – that will be updated soon…); and finally the very scary **Poison's Ivy** (ironically, I am dressing up as Poison Ivy herself tonight for a Halloween party. _Anyway_… you're mean to me. Just 'cause I killed off Raven… Well, as you will have just read above, Robin did intend to bring his friends back just as you speculated, but that went a little bit wrong… So I guess, in a way, you _were_ right. As for your other theory… it's wrong. Robin _did_ die. As for Raven… don't fret. She _will_ be back (obviously) and when she does return, there'll be hell to pay… she has a _very_ important role… Another Terra-hater… there's a surprise… "Literally" means that something is factual; e.g. something is true. That's all. Sorry to confuse you. Okay, so I'm still in your bad books. Perhaps _Nevarmore_ will cheer you up tomorrow; it has vampires in it. I know you like vampires. And Raven. She's there too. BTW, I should be sending you prologue back soon, okay?).

Actually, now that we're done with those, I've noticed that everyone seems to care that _Raven_ died, but not really so much about Starfire, Cyborg or Beast Boy. Wow, I guess she really _is_ the most popular Teen Titan…

Well, I think that's about it. What is everyone dressing up as for Halloween? As above, I am being Poison Ivy – nope, I didn't buy a stupid Uma Thurman costume. I put it together myself with bits and pieces, based on the _Batman: TAS_ version. I am quite proud of it… I like my DC costumes. I was Batgirl last year and Wonder Girl (!) the year before. Do you guys all have a costume yet?

Soooo… yup, that's it! Happy Pre-Halloween to you all; and full-on Happy Halloween to anyone who doesn't show up for the _Nevarmore_ showcasing tomorrow. Otherwise, hope to "see" you there!

- RobinRocks xXx


	7. Skies of Dust and Blood

Blah, I have no reason for such a long gap between updates… I'm just lazy…

And I am still being lazy right here, so…

Thankyou to: **Seductive Angel, Poison's Ivy, Super Chaos, LoopyLouise123, Kami-Elf, Me, Athena's Wings, YamiTai, Raven Victoria Grayson, Rocky-White Wolf of Curses, Simmie, Narroch, Quinn and His Quill **and** Guardian of Azarath.**

Yes, I'm lazy. Sorry.

But hey, would you look at that. No long boring ANs for you to wade through today!

Appreciate it while it lasts…

Skies of Dust and Blood

_What the hell happened here?..._

Robin stood on the stone steps of Jump City Museum, gazing out wordlessly over the wreck of a city that was sprawled before him. The museum was in Central Jump, and everything around it was… demolished, boarded up, burnt out and broken. He looked back the museum; it no longer had its splendid oak doors, its bronze plaque was faded and scratched, the Greek-style pillars were cracked and broken, the white Bath stone the building was constructed from was dirty and crumbling…

He walked down the wide marble stairway, clutching the Clock of Eternity to his chest. What had happened? He had set the clock to take him back ten hours, so that he could prevent himself and his friends from dying; instead he had ended up _here_. Some kind of… devastated future world, it seemed.

But _how far_ into the future? Starfire had described the future _she_ had been thrown into as being like this – cold, desolate, demolished – but had he truly been thrown _twenty_ years ahead, as she had been? Or was it _more_ than that, or _less?_...

He wandered down Main Street, his footsteps echoing on the cracked sidewalk. Everything seemed to be broken and destroyed; he saw the mall, smashed and boarded up, he recognised the remains of Bruce's favourite rich-boy Jump City hangout, _Jazz Central USA_ – the same place Raven had told him they had tracked Terra to, to enlist her help in freeing him of his demonic possession. The panel-picture of Elvis Presley was actually still intact, but the glass covering was shattered, the broken glass long since gone from the sidewalk, and Elvis was barely recognisable beneath the covering of moss and fungi that had spread across the front of the whole club. He recognised the comic book shop – it looked as though it had been hit by a bomb, there was that little left of it.

He needed to get higher, to see what had truly become of his city.

He pulled out his grappling hook and sent it soaring skyward, hoisting himself and the Clock of Eternity up onto the flat roof of the broken mall. He put the bird-shaped holster away and left the clock down, going to the edge of the mall's roof.

The sight that met his eyes was a long way away from the glittering splendour he was used to setting eyes upon – the complex matrix of a city that had always sprawled below him as the Titans responded to the distress call it was giving out.

This was a new land.

Everything was just… _gone_. Looking out across the river his heart jerked as he saw Titans Island… and only the ruin of Titans Tower. It had been torn down, so that only the bottom of the framework was left standing, and around it what looked like broken rubble and whatever else was left of the legacy of the Teen Titans.

And beyond that… he could no longer see the distinct silhouette of Gotham City. From what he could see, it appeared to be in just as much ruin as Jump. Wayne Enterprises was certainly gone, a huge hole cut into the skyline where it had once stood.

He could not see anything of Metropolis, but somehow he got the feeling that Superman had failed to save the day too, just as Batman had, and just as the Teen Titans had.

And all he had left was… he pulled the knife out of his belt and looked at it, heaving a sigh. All he had was this knife, the Clock of Eternity, the Blood Diamond hanging around his neck, and the very clothes that he was standing in – a symbol of what he had lived for, and what he had died for.

Justice.

And now it seemed that justice too had died, just as he had, and just as his friends had.

He sat on the edge of the mall and looked out over his broken city once more.

And cried.

**TT**

It was a while before he had calmed down enough to think everything through. He didn't know how he had ended up here; he had fixed the clock so that it would take him back ten hours, but instead it had thrown him _forwards_, but how many years?

Was the stupid thing _broken?_

No, it _couldn't_ be, because it had brought him here.

So it could just bring him _back_, thankyou very much.

Ok, the logical thing to do would be to… set the clock back ten hours again, and see if it reversed what had happened. If it _didn't_, and threw him _forwards_ in time _again_, then he would set the clock _forwards twenty_ hours, and _that_ should reverse it, and at least put him back where he had started. And then he could fool around with it and try again, this time intentionally going back ten hours and stopping all of this from happening.

There was nothing else he _could_ do. He would rather have been on his own in his _own_ time than been on his own _here_, where he didn't even know what _year_ it was.

He removed the glass case from the clock again and started to wind it back ten hours. When he was done he waited for the second hand to reach XII… then pushed down the button on the top.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

He stared at the clock in horror and dismay. Was it _really_ broken now? Had he broken it when he had landed on it? It certainly hadn't _felt_ like it – more like the other way around – but maybe it hitting to floor had done something to it.

He shook it desperately, hoping to trigger it into throwing him into that dark timeless oblivion again.

Nothing.

He tried setting it back again, starting to panic. Pushed the button down… _nothing_… It wasn't working; he'd broken it…

He tried it a few more times, then gave up, near tears again. His friends might have been dead in his own time, true, but he was better off there than here, alone in a place he barely knew anymore, a place where it seemed that not only were the _Teen Titans_ dead; everyone _else_ was too.

_Okay, calm down… I can find a clockmakers or something... they can fix the damn thing for me. There must be **someone** left alive in this city…_

He got up and put the glass case back over the Clock of Eternity, silently cursing himself for coming up with _this_ bright idea. Starfire and her stupid scrapbook…

He caught himself. No, it wasn't right to blame Star; it wasn't her fault. She hadn't told him to do this. How _could_ she?

But _why_ had he been so quick to jump on the time-travel bandwagon? There were other ways of reviving his friends; well, _one_.

Ra's al Ghul's Lazarus Pit.

Ra's himself was thousands of years old; he preserved himself by using the Lazarus Pit. It could prolong life… or restore it. The catch was that when you came out of the pit you were utterly stark-raving mad for about ten minutes, during which time you could be extremely hard to control. But after that… you were literally returned from the dead.

Just as _he_ was.

He doubted that it had been the Lazarus Pit that had revived _him_, but if only he'd thought… But still, it wasn't like Ra's would just let him turn up in the Middle East and dump his four dead friends in the pit, only for them to emerge as four temporary lunatics wielding extreme power. But _Bruce_ knew where the pit was – Talia, Ra's al Ghul's beauteous daughter with a bit of a thing for _Brucie_ – and it was a pretty mutual feeling – had taken him there, and she would probably do it again, if Bruce asked her.

Talia was not evil, and neither, Robin supposed grudgingly, was Ra's, really. Ra's was just a bit of a fanatic about human resources, and seemed to think that killing off whole civilisations was the way to amend world issues. And Talia… was just loyal to her father. There was a deep bond between them, and even though Talia often didn't agree with her father's ways and methods, at the end of the day, as she always justified, he was still her father.

Robin swung down from the high roof of the mall, landing heavily on the broken sidewalk. It was dark and very, very cold, although he supposed it could be winter in _this_ time, whereas it was only September in his own time. Robin pulled his cape around his shoulders, clutching the Clock of Eternity tightly to his chest in fear of dropping it and breaking it even more, and began to walk through the remains of his city, looking for some sign of life.

**TT**

Two hours later – as the not-quite-broken Clock of Eternity told him happily – found him sitting on the steps of Jump City Library, tired, hungry and half-frozen. He had been wandering the demolished streets of Jump City for that exact amount of time, and had found nothing. There were no people living here anymore; they were either all dead, or they had all cleared out years ago.

Although he _had_ begun to pick up the pieces of what had happened, even though he still wasn't sure of how much time had passed since then.

Slade had taken over the city, and destroyed it. In this future, somehow… the Teen Titans were _not_ alive.

He had found pieces of commando armour, circuits, faded newspaper pages lying abandoned in old dusty boarded-up stores.

All little clues that made up the big picture.

Whether Slade had unlocked the Orb of Azarath or not, he had finally achieved what he had always wanted; to get the Teen Titans out of the way, and then take over the city. And with one city in the palm of his hand, it would have been easy for him to expand, take Gotham too, and then take Metropolis…

The Teen Titans had lost.

Slade had won.

And now Robin was witness to his worst nightmare – allowing Slade to get what he wanted.

Robin shivered, looking up at the murky night sky and pulling his cape more tightly around him. What was he going to do _now?_ There was nothing of Jump left; the buildings were demolished or simply rotted to nothing by neglect, there was no food, no water, no vehicles and no gasoline on which to run them… there seemed to be nothing left alive at all, apart from the many rats he had seen, and _they_ didn't exactly seem full of life either.

He supposed the next move would be to go to Gotham City, see if anything was left there. Gotham was a bigger city than Jump, it was possible that there were still people living among the ruin.

Surely Bruce would still be alive?...

But then, Robin didn't know how far he had been thrown forwards. This could be 50 years into the future, or 100… or it could only be 5 – he simply didn't know.

And it was a terribly long walk to Gotham City; it took a good twenty minutes to get there by the T-car. It would take him _all night_ to walk there, and when he did it might be in just as much ruin as Jump was.

Maybe worse.

He looked up as the sound of… a _motorbike_… met his ears. But as he sat there on the steps of the boarded-up, demolished library – freezing his ass off – it seemed too unreal. There was no life here at all, he _knew_ that there wasn't…

He was proved wrong as the sound became louder and suddenly a motorcycle screeched around the corner, carrying someone – he assumed it was a man, but he couldn't quite tell from this distance – dressed all in black leather. Robin thought that the bike would just roar straight past him, but to his surprise the bike stopped in the middle of the street, right in front of library.

The biker turned off the ignition and pulled off their helmet, and Robin could instantly see that it was definitely a man. He was blond with startlingly green eyes, and he frowned at Robin sitting on the steps with his black cape drawn around his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as though he thought it stupid to be sitting on library steps in the freezing cold; although, actually, Robin had to agree with him.

Robin shrugged, shivering again.

The guy stuck his black helmet on the handlebar of his bike and got off it, coming over to him. There was something about him that reminded Robin of Seth Elliott; maybe it was the green eyes, or the slender physique, or the tight black leather pants.

It wasn't him, though. What the hell would Seth Elliott be doing _here?_ He probably had more Azarathian senators to kill…

"How come you're sittin' there, kid?" The guy asked him again. "Little thing like you, all by yourself in the dark?"

Outraged, Robin stood up abruptly, flicking his cape back so that the guy could see his whole body.

The guy raised his eyebrows.

"Ok, sorry, you looked younger," he said flatly, holding his leather-gloved hands up in surrender. "It's your face." The guy took hold of Robin's chin in his firm grip. "It's really young-looking. Sort of… I dunno, _chubby_. I thought you were like, _twelve_."

_Oh, it's really nice to meet you too…_

Robin pulled his head out of the guy's grip, scowling as he backed away.

"I'm _sixteen_," he spat.

The guy shrugged.

"Still shouldn't be out on your own. Mind, it's not like you're gonna get mugged or anything; there's no-one _in_ this dump no more anyhow."

"What… what happened?" Robin asked him quietly.

The guy snorted.

"Hell, where have _you_ been for the past fifteen years?"

Robin blinked.

"_Fifteen_ _years?_"

The guy nodded.

"Yeah, fifteen years ago, guy called Slade turned up and took over this city. It was supposed to be protected by some superhero team, _Team Titans_, I think they were called…"

"_Teen_ Titans," Robin corrected immediately.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, this Slade guy, he killed them and took over, killing and destroying and whatever… and then he got Gotham, and he got Metropolis, and Blüdhaven, and that other dump… Some of the other superheroes all banded together, you know, to try and stop him, but he managed to whittle them all down. I think they're all dead now."

"Who?" Robin pressed. "Which ones?"

"I dunno, some of 'em I'd never seen before. Uhh… Batman an' Superman, I think, an' a few others…never did much good, you know."

"How come you're here?" Robin went on suspiciously. "I thought you said that no-one lived here in Jump anymore?"

"No-one does. I don't live here – I live in Gotham. It's almost as badly wrecked as this in places, but people still live there. Well, the ones that are left…" He turned around, thumbing over his shoulder; Robin saw the logo on the back of his leather jacket, reading "Gotham City Motorcycle Club", or "GCMC" for short.

"Of course, the club doesn't exist anymore," the guy explained, turning around again. "But I used to be a member."

"What are you doing _here?_" Robin probed, still suspicious of him.

The guy shrugged.

"_Tch_, I just like to ride around on my bike. Gets me away from the crap I have to live with in Gotham."

"Are you going to Gotham now?"

"Yeah. Why, do you need a ride?"

Robin nodded.

"I lost my bike," he replied truthfully; well, he _had_. His Bat-cycle was still outside Jump City Museum, in his _own_ time.

"Sure, hop on," the guy said, going back to his bike. "Can't leave a little kid like you out here on your own, can I?"

"I _told_ you, I'm _sixteen_," Robin snapped as he went after him, carrying the clock.

"Hey, don't get stroppy," the guy replied irritably, "or I'll dump you off again. And what the heck is _that_ thing you're carrying?"

"A clock," Robin replied complacently, holding it up.

"You're not putting _that_ on my bike."

"I _need_ it," Robin argued, taking it back to his chest. "And besides, do you know how much it's _worth?_ I can't just _leave_ it here…"

"Alright, shut up already…" The guy had put his helmet back on and was already seated; he patted the leather seat behind him. "Lucky you're skinny, kid; there's plenty of room. Now sit your ass on it and let's go."

Robin straddled the bike, placing the Clock of Eternity between his legs and hoping that it didn't fall off.

"Ok, I'm not one for getting cosy with people I pick up off the street," the guy said, his voice a little muffled through his helmet, "but you'll have to hold onto me, or you'll fall off. Just cling onto my waist…"

Robin nodded and did as he was told.

"Where in Gotham do you want to go?"

Robin thought for a second.

"Wayne Manor," he said finally. "Take me to Wayne Manor, please."

"No problem, kid…"

Robin wasn't prepared for the take-off, almost getting thrown off as it started down the street at a reckless speed. He gripped the guy's waist so tightly he felt sure he was actually hurting him, but he daren't loosen his grip in fear of falling off the saddle. The clock seemed secure enough though, wedged between his thighs and against the guy's back.

However, the empty roads made short work of the journey, and soon the bike was screeching to halt outside the gates of Wayne Manor.

"Here's your stop, kid," the guy said brightly, turning off the engine and pulling off his helmet again.

Robin opened his eyes and peered around the guy's back.

He gasped in horror.

Wayne Manor was… in _ruin_… Half of it was little more than rubble, as though it had been burned to the ground, while the other parts that still stood were crumbling away, torn apart by veins of unruly ivy. The windows were smashed, the doors torn from their hinges, the once-beautifully-kept grounds a mess of weeds and debris from the mansion…

Robin slid wordlessly off the saddle of the bike, picking up the Clock of Eternity as he did so, and went to the gates of the grounds. One was missing, while the other was dented and twisted, as though it had been smashed in with a battering ram.

"Terrible, isn't it?" The guy said, coming to his side at the gates.

Robin turned to him.

"You _knew?_" He asked hoarsely. "You _knew_ that this had happened?"

"Of course I did," the guy replied softly. "_Everyone_ knows about Wayne Manor. It was destroyed… oh, about eleven or twelve years ago. Only Wayne and his butler in the house, of course. Both killed."

Robin stared at him.

"Bruce Wayne… _killed?_"

"Mm. Whole place looted then burnt to the ground. Never found Wayne's body, although they found the butler…"

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Robin asked hysterically.

The guy shrugged offishly.

"You seemed desperate to come here. I was only doing what you asked."

"Yeah, but…" Robin turned back to the sight of the demolished Manor. "I didn't realise _this_ would have happened."

"Where the hell are you _from_, kid? _Sweden?_"

"No."

"Then how come you didn't know? You were wandering around Jump like you'd never seen it before. Didn't you know about Slade taking over?"

"It's… _complicated_," Robin sighed.

The guy shrugged and didn't pursue the matter.

"How come you're looking for Wayne, then? You knew him, or something?"

"Yeah." Robin nodded. "Yeah, I knew him _very_ well."

The guy was silent for a few seconds, frowning as he studied Robin.

"You're Grayson, aren't you?" He asked finally, his voice quiet.

Robin blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Grayson. Richard Grayson." The guy folded his arms, peering very hard at him. "Bruce Wayne's ward. He went missing right after Slade took over Jump City. No-one ever saw him again, not even Wayne. But you're him, aren't you? And you've come back after all these years, looking for him. What do you need, money?"

Robin stared at him; ok, the guy was right about _one_ thing. He _was_ Richard Grayson, but how could this guy be making that connection, especially when he stood in his Robin uniform, the mask over his eyes, the weapons in his belt?...

But then… how old was this guy? Mid-twenties, maybe? The Teen Titans had been killed in _this_ time over fifteen years ago, allowing Slade to take over. That would have made this guy about _ten_, maybe less. Robin and the Teen Titans would have been around before _he_ was really aware of them. And Robin had left Batman's employ two years _previous_ to that, so then this guy would have been about seven; he probably didn't even remember the idea of Batman's sidekick, Robin the Boy Wonder.

But even so, the guy had said that he had first thought that he was twelve, because he looked so young; Robin had irritably corrected him, informing him that he was actually sixteen. Hadn't it occurred to this guy that Richard, or "Dick", Grayson would be, like, _thirty_ by now?

"No," he answered finally. "I'm not Bruce Wayne's ward."

"You're not Richard Grayson?"

"No."

The guy studied him skeptically, then shrugged.

"Sorry. I suppose you wouldn't be, would you? You're too young…"

"Yeah. I'm not the ward of the man who was killed here." And it wasn't a lie; he _wasn't_. This Bruce, the dead one, would have had his _own_ Dick Grayson, a future one, and _he_, the present Dick Grayson, or "Robin", had his own Bruce Wayne.

"What are you gonna do now, kid?" The guy asked him.

Robin shrugged hopelessly.

"Well, I'm heading into Downtown Gotham. I'll take you with me if you like, and drop you off somewhere."

"Okay, that would be great."

Robin turned away from Wayne Manor and went with the blond guy back to the motorcycle, getting onto the back again; and this time not finding it within him to cling so tightly.

* * *

Yeah…

Review or something…

…And then you get to find out what happens next!

In theory.

RobinRocks xXx


	8. Same Old Gotham

Whoa, _Ohmygawd_, I have _soooo_ much to say! First of all, I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update – it was all the stupid site and their stupid email alert problems…

Secondly… it is my birthday! Dudes, I am 18! Officially! As of today, 3rd December 2006, I can, by British law, drink, vote, move out, get married without parental consent, go clubbing and actually _legally_ go on Adult Fanfiction. net. Huzzah!

Third, who has seen _The Prestige_? Or, more precisely, who _hasn't_ seen _The Prestige_? Because seriously, it is _amazing_. When I went to see it (the first time…) I had no idea what to expect – all I knew was that it had Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale in it. Truthfully, I was expecting a good watch, but nothing special. But OMG, I was so _wrong_ – it is awesome! Everyone totally has to go see it if it is still in a cinema near you. Trust me, I hate most movies because I am one of those annoying people who picks faults in everything, so if I liked it, it _must_ be good. You all heard how much I hated _Batman Begins_… But Christian Bale go my seal of approval for this one!

And in this vein, the _second_ time I went to see _The Prestige_, I discovered that I have been ripped off! You might know what I'm talking about here, but the second time I saw that movie, there was this trailer before it. It was for a movie coming out soon starring Leonardo DiCaprio and is about war and stuff in Africa, fuelled over this one legendary diamond.

It is called _Blood Diamond_.

And I _so_ came up with that first!!! In fact, the (original, so there!) Blood Diamond has quite a big part to play in this chapter. Even freakier? The movie is a Warner Bros distribution. This fic is a _Teen Titans_ fanfic. _Teen Titans_ is a Warner Bros cartoon.

Creepy-much? O.o

And lastly, before I thank everyone… _where_ are all my reviewers gone? _Helloooooooooo_? All my regulars? I mean, there's Quinn like bloody clockwork, and Narroch, and Poison's Ivy and YamiTai and Simmie and Raven Victoria Grayson and… but seriously…

We are only _five_ reviews off the big triple digit! I thought we might make it there last chapter, but everyone has vanished on me… _Please_ don't say I'm boring you! Anyway, I assume we _will_ get there this time, soooo… Because I don't see reviews as just my personal achievement, like I said. It's like one big victory, because if you didn't review, there wouldn't be _anything_ at all. So it is _our_ thing, not just _my_ thing, which is why I _want_ you to review and be a part of this. So _please_ review – let's hit 100!!!

Anyway thankyou to; **YamiTai **(it is _your_ birthday _next_ Sunday! I haven't forgotten, honey!!! You get another dedication, of course! And dude, you're _obsessed_ with this freaking kid!); **Quinn and His Quill **(not the Status Quo! Heh heh…You think blondie guy is Seth? _Iiiiin_teresting…); **Narroch **(kyaaah! NUDGE! Mwa hahahahahaaaaaaaa!); **Guardian of Azarath **(yes, he needs that clock fixed… you will see his solution soon enough…); **LoopyLouise123 **(I like Alfred too! Who doesn't like him? He is so cool… you know, considering he is an elderly butler… And nice deduction there… :) Hold on to that thought about Bruce…); **Simmie **(yes, **_MY_ BLOOD DIAMOND** _is_ bad luck for Robin… Hmm, and another one who thinks there is a link between Seth and blondie…); **Kami-Elf **(_tchyeah_, I love to tease… and _you_ love to _be_ teased, darling, don't deny it. Would you read otherwise? I don't think so…); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(yes, we should all get horses. Horses are cool… although, to be honest, I don't think a horse would be much of an asset to Robin right now… And yeah, the reason that actually all of these chapters are "choppy" is because they are technically "chopped-up chapters". This chapter, the last chapter and the one that will come after this are all the one chapter in the original fic…); **Poison's Ivy **(yup, you're pretty smart – _and_ smart enough to figure out that a fic without Raven in _can_ still be good! She's not gone for long, BTW. She comes back before the others do… And no, Red X is not in _Nevarmore_. Neither is Slade…); **Me **(who is this guy? You think I'm gonna tell you? Though I might if you tell me who _you_ are at long last…); and **Super Chaos **(There is PLENTY of action in this new place, believe me, my friend… as for blondie…).

Well, yeah, I think that is all for now…

There's a surprise for y'all at the end of this chapter. Or maybe not.

Same Old Gotham

"Are you okay here?"

The blond guy pulled off his helmet for a third time as he killed the engine.

Robin looked around, then nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be fine…"

Actually, Gotham City didn't seem too different, just a helluva lot more run down. Some stores and restaurants were boarded-up and destroyed for good, but a lot of the darker, seedier clubs and bars were still up and running, although looking worse for wear. People in long coats – muggers, gangsters, murderers – stood around the filthy streets and smoked and drank out of brown paper bags and shot heroin.

A few differences, but pretty much Same Old Gotham.

"I'm going in here," the guy went on, thumbing at a club behind him. The neon lighting read _Club Freake_, although almost half of the letters were smashed or out of gas, so that it really read as _lu re ke_.

"But I'm afraid you can't come in with me," the guy went on. "You're too young."

Robin nodded again, not wishing to pursue him anyway.

"Well…" The guy held out his leather-gloved hand. "It was a short but sweet meeting. Nice to meet you."

"Same here." Robin shook with him, holding the Clock of Eternity in his other arm. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. See ya around, kid." The guy took his hand back, waved and turned to go into the club.

"Wait!" Robin called after him.

The guy turned, looking surprised.

"What?"

"You didn't tell me who you are," Robin said.

The guy grinned.

"And neither did _you_. Touché, huh?"

"Guess so."

"You don't need to know my name, kid," the blond guy said with a smile. "Just think of me… as a friend."

He entered the club without another word or backwards glance, leaving Robin alone once more on the cold dark street outside, clutching the Clock of Eternity.

Only the Boy Wonder didn't feel so helpless and lost any more. Ok, there was no Bruce here; he had been killed years ago. But what was that the guy had said about a superhero team? Maybe some of them were left.

He needed information before he could go any further.

And what better place to get it than in a bar, a place where broken people went to drown their sorrows and pains and problems in a dollar's worth of cheap booze. Of course, he had to be careful; he was pretty sure he didn't actually look _twelve_, but he certainly didn't look twenty-one either. However, this wasn't the posh end of Gotham – if that even _existed_ anymore. This was the streets of the underworld; he'd be let into one of these bars without hesitation if they thought they could push drugs on him.

He didn't have any money on him - he had a priceless clock, but it was broken anyway – but he didn't want drugs or alcohol; he wanted to know every detail of what had happened here in those fifteen years since Slade had taken over.

He wandered along the street, looking around at the filthy bars and clubs flanking it and trying to pick one out to interrogate people in. Stripster club… no, that was no good; the guys in there would be too busy ogling half-naked women to be telling him about Superman, even if he _did_ have them pinned to the wall by the throat. One of the many gay bars might have been a good option, but like he was going in one of _those_ dressed in spandex.

Actually, like he was going in one of _those,_ _at all,_ _ever_.

He was spared having to choose as suddenly the doors of one of the bars burst open and two men tumbled out, extremely drunk and fighting clumsily, screeching obscene insults at each other. Robin ducked into the shadows as the two men stumbled past him, fists flailing, then caught the door with his foot and slipped inside.

He immediately wished he hadn't; the air was thick with cigarette smoke, actually murky with the amount of it, and he could barely breathe. But he pressed on, moving further and further inside the tiny bar, ducking under fights and beer glasses being thrown across the room, and stepping around some guy as he collapsed and threw up violently all over the floor.

Ok, he had this sussed out – if he went and stood by the men's bathroom, he could grab guys on their way in or out and slam them against the wall and demand information. It really did work.

If you were Batman.

Never mind; he might not have been as scary-looking as Batman, but he knew some excruciating arm twists and such like. He could _torture_ information out of them if need be.

Unfortunately he didn't get as far as the bathrooms, as he was suddenly grasped by one of his shoulders and whipped around.

"That's a nice-lookin' clock ya got there, kid."

Robin looked up to find a stocky man standing in front of him, dressed in a double-breasted pinstriped suit and black fedora; nothing unusual, as even fifteen years on everyone in Gotham seemed to dress as though they were living in 1930s New York or Chicago. Still, the Boy Wonder got an uneasy feeling that this guy wasn't going to offer to buy him a drink. There were two goons flanking him, one on each side, dressed in similar attire, but they were much taller and broader.

The obvious equation; the short guy was the Big Shot, the two big guys the muscle.

"Seems an odd place to bring it, though," the man went on, dragging on the cigarette held between his first and forefinger. "You often take your clock out for a walk?"

Robin looked down at the Clock of Eternity gripped tightly in his arms.

"Oh… yeah, all the time…" He grinned at them and started to back away.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" The guy asked offishly. "Nothin' wrong with carryin' a clock 'round with ya, right boys?"

The two hulking goons shook their heads simultaneously. Okay, so he had complete control over them.

That wasn't good.

"Where you get it, kid? D'ja loot it?"

"No, it's mine." Robin continued to edge away carefully. "I'm actually bringing it in here to get my… _uncle_ to fix it. It's broken…"

The gangster-guy's eyes followed the pendulum, a greedy expression in them.

"Don't look broken to me, kid."

"It's the chime," Robin fabricated. "The chime's bust. My uncle said he'd fix it."

"Yeah? And where is your uncle, kid? Is he here yet?"

Robin pretended to look around for someone; maybe this hadn't been his brightest idea…

"No, it doesn't look like it… maybe I should go check out the bathroom…"

He turned on his heel and started to walk away, and was grabbed by the shoulders again by one of the huge goons.

"Here kid, I'll make you an offer," the gangster-guy said briskly, extending a hand. "Chester Lambini. I happen to be a bit of an arts and antiques collector, and that's a right little beauty you've got there. I have a special fondness for clocks, you know."

He reached into the pocket of his pinstriped jacket and withdrew a crisp, folded $50 bill.

"I'll give you fifty bucks for it, son. What do you say?"

"I can't sell it to you," Robin answered, shaking his head. He would _like_ to have been able to; the thing was sodding heavy, and it was bust anyway, but he needed it to get home. And he had technically stolen it.

Chester Lambini tutted.

"You drive a hard bargain, m'boy," he said jovially. "Ok, how about $100?" A second green bill joined the first in the palm of Chester's hand.

Again Robin shook his head.

"Look, I'd really like to, but I can't. My… uncle would go nuts."

"Just say it screwed up completely and ya threw it in the trash," Chester said dismissively. "He won't know. Come on, kid; think what ya could do with one hundred smackers. What are you kids into these days, anyway?"

Robin frowned at him.

"I'm sorry… I don't think I understand what you mean."

"Oh, you know, what drugs are your generation into? Last year it was coke, this year I hear it's heroin."

Robin blinked.

"Oh, no… I'm not into drugs or anything…"

Chester sighed.

"'Bout time you _got_ into it then, kid. Everyone does that crap nowadays, it's like an escape from the everyday crap we have to live in, now that Slade bastard rules everything. It's ok, don't look so alarmed; I know some good dealers. So you just take my nice $100 and we'll go meet some friends of mine and they'll get you sorted. What do ya fancy? This guy I know, Jason, he's got a good heroin supply, and cocaine – very clean, you know. Of course, if you'd rather just get out of it he's got some good trippers, or Ecstasy…"

"I don't _want_ drugs!" Robin snapped, backing away.

"Well, what _do_ you want?" Chester asked him. "Before Slade took over, a hundred bucks couldn't have bought ya nothin'; now you can practically buy _anything_ ya want with that kinda money. Economy's really gone downhill, stuff's so scarce that $100 is worth as much as it was 100 years ago."

"Yeah, ok, thanks for the offer," Robin said impatiently. "But I _can't_ sell it to you."

"An' _nothin'_ I say can convince ya, kid?" Chester wheedled, slinging an arm around Robin's shoulders. "Ok, look; $100 is a lot of money for that old piece of junk that ya clearly don't want anyway. I know what you kids are like, ya like something a bit exciting, a bit more adult…"

_Ok, I really don't like where this is going…_

"I know Gotham's a dump now, but there's some good clubs, you know, clubs with _girls_. You slip 'em the right amount of money and they'll take ya into the back room and give it to ya like you never knew. Give ya the works, ya know? Ya ever heard of a masseuse? See, they-"

"Yeah, I know," Robin interrupted flatly, wriggling out of Chester's grip. "Look, I'm sorry, Mr Lambini, but I really can't sell you this clock."

Chester didn't seem to be listening anyway; his beady eyes were now fixed greedily on the glittering red jewel at Robin's neck, which he had just noticed. He reached for it, taking it into a shaking palm and closing his fingers around it.

"Kid, I'll give ya enough money to fuck every girl in this entire city three times over if ya give me _this_."

Robin tried to pull his necklace out of Chester's grip, but the man was clinging on to it grim-death.

"I can't sell you _that_ either," Robin said irritably, taking hold of the chain and tugging unsuccessfully. "Someone gave it to me."

It wasn't really a lie; Seth Elliott had _traded_ it to him, in return for that tiny silver gear.

With a final tug Robin managed to retrieve his necklace from Chester Lambini's voracious grip. Chester made a half-reach for it again, then withdrew his hand and began to fumble in his jacket pocket.

"Look, kid… name your price… anything you want… $500? No, _$1000!_ C'mon there, kid. One thousand bucks for it…"

Chester was waving an entire fistful of green $50 bills in the Boy Wonder's face, his expression desperate. Robin simply stared at him, utterly perplexed by his behaviour.

And somehow the fact that Chester Lambini – obviously some kind of gangster, crime-lord, whatever – wanted it so desperately that he would pay $1000 for it made the Boy Wonder realise that he should under no circumstances part with it. Chester was practically drooling, his eyes fixed on Robin's chest and the blood red jewel that glittered upon the fabric of his shirt.

"No," he said flatly, pushing Chester's handful of money out of his face. "I can't sell it to you, and I can't sell you the clock either."

_And I'm not selling you the knife tucked in my belt either, but you don't have to know about that…_

"Kid, do ya what that thing _is?_" Chester snapped.

_Play dumb, Grayson._

"Not exactly," Robin replied carefully. "The guy who gave it to me said it was called a "Blood Diamond" or something…"

Chester Lambini snorted in disgust.

"Not _a_ Blood Diamond, kid," he spat. "_The_ Blood Diamond." His grey eyes misted over slightly. "The only one in existence. I thought it was merely an urban legend of the underworld; many have searched for it, for it is worth… well, a _lot_ of money…"

_And here you are trying to rip me off for $1000…_

"_So?_" Robin asked, putting on the typical teenager front.

"So it's wasted on a scrawny little brat like _you!_" Chester seethed, lunging forwards for the red diamond.

Robin sidestepped effortlessly, clutching the clock tightly.

"Well, thanks for the information," he smirked. "Guess I can get a lot more than $1000 for it then, huh?"

Chester roared in fury, making many of the equally shady people lurking around the bar smoking and drinking turn around to see what was going on – when they saw what was shaping up to be another fight they lost interest and looked away again.

"_Jack! Michaelo! Grab him!_" Chester screeched.

Before Robin could whip around he felt one of the goons grasp him powerfully around the shoulders. He tried to kick but couldn't reach whichever one was holding him, nor the other which stood behind.

"Get the hell off me!" He spat, gripping the Clock of Eternity extremely tightly as he saw Chester Lambini approaching.

"Hey, calm down, kiddo," Chester smiled. "We ain't gonna hurt ya. I just want the clock an' the Blood Diamond. I'm a fair man; you can still have your $1100, ok? A deal's a deal."

"It's _not_ a deal," Robin snapped. "_I_ didn't agree to it!" He continued to struggle unproductively. "I don't _want_ $1100 to spend on sex and drugs and whatever else you people do!"

"Not much of an American, are you?" Chester taunted. "Sex, drugs and Rock 'n' Roll? Now, I think I'll take your precious necklace first…"

He grasped hold of it with one hand, the other going to the back of Robin's neck to unclasp it.

His anger soaring, Robin shot a bolt of electricity through the huge goon holding him without even thinking about it. Whichever one it was – Jack or Michaelo – crumpled, his grip loosening. Chester gasped and stepped back, letting go of the necklace.

Robin turned and downed the other with a swift, powerful jump-kick to the side of the head, then whirled around to face Chester Lambini. The stocky man stepped back, his face white.

"Ok, no need to get mad there, son… I'm still up for negotiation…" he stammered.

"_I'm not_," Robin hissed, starting towards him.

It was then that the shaking gangster saw the "R" badge on his chest.

And recognised it.

"Jesus Christ, he's one of those freakin' _superheroes!_" He bellowed for all to hear, his face twisting.

The entire bar suddenly went silent and Robin stopped his threatening advance on Chester to look around; every single man in the bar – there were no women at all in here – was staring at him with a look of mingled disgust, horror and anger, as though he was a sewer rat that had dared to venture above the drains and into the bar.

He didn't understand – he knew that all of these people were on the wrong side of the law, so naturally they saw superheroes as their enemies. But now they were looking at him with serious fear and hatred interfused, far more than the emotion that even _Batman_ had been able to squeeze out of them at times.

"Hey, I thought they were all dead!" Another man shouted from the bar. "Thought Slade's robots killed them all."

"They missed one, it would appear," Chester snarled. He reached out and grabbed Robin by the front of his shirt, pulling him right up close to his own face. "Let's get one thing clear, kid, in case ya haven't been paying attention to what's been going on around here. Superheroes are bad news for everyone. Sure, they used to protect the innocent and whatever, but it was those intentions that made life hell for everyone when Slade took over. He's got these robots, see, a whole freakin' _army_ of 'em, and when Batman and Superman formed their little super-group to try and bring him down, he ordered his army to kill every single last one of 'em. And in doing so, these robots tore everything to shreds looking for them. Used to break into bars like this, see, where people were just goin' 'bout their business, and they destroyed the place lookin' for Batman or Batgirl or Superman or whoever. Lotta people got _killed_ because of them, you know, and a lotta places got wrecked for good. Those superheroes never did no good for no-one; it was a relief when they were all eventually killed. 'Course, they couldn't fight to save us no more, but it wasn't like they were doin' much good anyway. They couldn't ever get to Slade; it was all just a losin' battle, an' a lotta people suffered for it. So, as I'm sure you can guess kid, superheroes aren't exactly popular 'round here no more. In fact, we don't want no more trouble, and we don't want to Slade sendin' out his robots to hunt for _you_ and tear the place apart while doin' it. So, little Batboy…"

Chester reached inside his double-breasted jacket and pulled out a gun, and around the silent bar rang the sound of many more guns cocking, ready to fire.

He was going to be shot to pieces.

"…We're goin' to have to kill ya," Chester finished, pointing the barrel of his black .38 at Robin's forehead.

_At least he's forgotten about the necklace…_

"Enjoy Superhero Heaven, _Robin_…" Chester's finger slowly began to squeeze the trigger.

Robin felt the electricity coursing through his body as he flung a blade of the stuff at Chester's hand, knocking the gun clean out of his hand. The distraction enabled him to go to his belt and fling a couple of birdarangs, disarming several others. He knew he could not electrocute these people as he had done to Slade's robots – they were hardly _innocent_, but _he_ was a _superhero_.

Superheroes didn't kill.

Going back to basics, Robin slammed every single one of his smoke pellets hard at the floor. The entire bar was immediately engulfed in the opaque cloud, causing his would-be assassins to start choking and coughing and swearing.

"CAP HIM!" Chester Lambini screamed through the smoke, bent double with the coughing fit that had taken him.

Those who still held their guns began firing everywhere, blinded by the smoke, hoping to hit their target.

He was long gone.

Crouched in the shadows of the bar's rooftop, Robin watched and waited. They would come bursting out any second, seething, searching for him, guns blazing. If he ran now they would catch him.

Better to wait in the dark.

He enclosed a green-gloved hand around his necklace, frowning. So, Gotham's underworld knew about it too, huh? Interesting; _very interesting_…

The doors of the bar flew open and well over fifty assorted gangsters, drug-lords and plain thieves and murderers burst out, almost all of them wielding guns. Chester Lambini was leading them, firing into the air with his .38.

"Little bastard!" He yelled furiously. "Where did he go?! When I get hold of him I'll fill him so full of lead _Superman_ wouldn't be able to see through him!"

"Split up!" A tall black man in a white suit and fedora shouted. "We'll _find_ him, and when we do… well, I wouldn't like to _be_ him!"

"Someone search the roof," Chester ordered. "Don't forget, he's probably got a grappling hook of some kind in that fancy belt of his. He could be lurking up there, ready to pounce on us…"

_Crud_…

Robin shifted backwards as he heard the rattling of several men climbing up the rusty metal ladder to the rooftop. He had to get out of here, _now_. He grabbed the Clock of Eternity, holding it tightly, and, using the shadows as an illusion of invisibility, slipped across the roof and jumped off the edge to the filthy backstreet below. He landed quietly and expertly, even after such a long fall, and ducked into the shadows, becoming invisible again to anyone who would look over the edge of the roof.

"Nothin' up here!" Someone on the roof shouted. "Bastard's gone. And…"

Robin heard him lean over the edge of the roof.

"Nope, he's not down there either. Must've run off someplace."

The sound of their voices receded and Robin breathed a sigh of relief, holding the Clock of Eternity to his chest.

Safe. For now.

But in this twisted, annihilated future world, _who else_ was going to try and kill him before he got out of here? If superheroes were as unpopular and hated as Chester had said, he was in trouble. His costume was bright and garish and easily recognisable, even though he had supposedly been dead for fifteen years. But if he'd been dead for fifteen years in _this_ time, did that mean that his future self had _not_ been revived from his electrocution, as _he_ had? And yet, in _another_ future – _twenty_ years ahead – Starfire had met a 36 year old Nightwing? He was so confused…

_Ok, if I live through this, I am **so** dyeing my hair blond; at least then I'll have an excuse…_

The sound of clattering coming down the backstreet snapped him out of his reverie, his heart skipping a beat as he heard voices and footsteps approaching.

"Who put that Lambini guy in charge, anyway?" One of the two gangsters was muttering darkly. "Tosser; I know where I'd like to stick that damn .38 of his…"

"He said to check out the alley," the other voice said. "'Kid could still be hiding down here. It's the Batman's sidekick, right? Shouldn't be too hard to get rid of him. He ain't got no powers like Superman or nothin'…"

_You wish…_

It was no good; he had to attack them. If he didn't they would find him backed into the shadows and would shoot him to bits. All he had to do was stick to martial arts – that way nobody got hurt.

Well. Not much.

Well. Not _killed_.

Hopefully.

He set the Clock of Eternity down in the shadows to keep it safe, then leapt upwards, catching hold of a metal pipe stretching across the width of the alley and swinging himself upwards. He crouched on it, still holding it with his hands and still in the shadows. He waited until the two gangsters were just below him, and then leapt, flipping over and landing purposefully on his feet behind them.

Without waiting for them to turn around and respond he slammed a kick into the spine of one, throwing him forwards to the filthy concrete below. The second one turned, only to have his gun kicked out of his hand, followed up by a roundhouse kick to the stomach. Before he could collapse Robin grasped him by the front of his jacket and swept his feet from underneath him, sending him heavily to the ground.

The first gangster was already getting to his feet, his gun still gripped in his hand. He whipped around and squeezed a few shots in random directions, hoping to panic the attacker – that damn kid…

"That damn kid" dodged every bullet by miles, ducked under the range of the gun and swung his elbow up into the gangster's face. He felt blood spurt onto his arm and heard the crack as the guy's nose broke beneath the blow. Feeling no remorse, Robin floored him and stood back, wiping his elbow with his other gloved hand; the pair of them were on the ground, both moaning and too battered to get up again.

He didn't have long to get out of here; the first man's gunshots would attract the others and they'd follow the direction of the noise right to him. Two he could take down ok; _fifty_-two was a completely different story.

He scooped up the Clock of Eternity and slipped into the comforting darkness of a side-alley leading off from the one he was down now. Already he could hear gunshots approaching behind him, hear voices and exclamations of "Bloody hell! What did he _do_ to them?" and knew they would be fanning out, searching for him like a rat in a barn.

He came out in another street, almost as filthy and garbage-strewn as the alley he had just emerged from. He needed somewhere to hide, somewhere they would never even think of looking.

Somewhere safe, and somewhere quiet, where he could think.

He pulled out his grappling hook and escalated himself onto a rooftop. He could still hear the voices, coming closer by the second, and the shots; probably shooting at rats if they made a sound, thinking it was _him_. He broke into a run, leaping from rooftop to rooftop easily and effortlessly and fearlessly.

Putting distance between himself and the gangsters.

And then, from the rooftop on which he stood elevated above the broken, battered city he had once called home, he saw it; his refuge.

Gotham City Cathedral.

It was broken, abandoned, its once-glorious stained-glass windows smashed in and boarded up. Ivy crawled up the sides, strangling it, and moss grew so thickly across it that it looked almost green, instead of the splendid white it had once been. The doorway was also boarded up with plank after heavy plank, and there were obscene graffitied messages scrawled up the parts of wall that were not being suffocated by the parasitic moss. The gravestones and crypts scattered around the churchyard were almost all broken or cracked, some even dug up, with bits of broken coffins scattered, rotting, across the overgrown grass.

It had never looked so wonderful to him.

He leapt the next few buildings across blocks towards the cathedral, diving down to the street from a fairly low roof and almost landing on top of some guy in a long black coat that looked as though it had seen better days, painstakingly fixing a needle. His sleeve was rolled up in anticipation and as Robin apologised and backed away he could see the thick, purple needle tracks. The guy barely acknowledged him, gazing blearily at him for a second or two, as though he thought he was imagining this dark-haired boy in Technicolor clothes clutching a clock, who seemed to have just fallen out of the sky. Either way, he didn't seem too perplexed, and went back to his heroin.

Chester Lambini had been right about the drugs situation at least.

Speaking of Chester Lambini, Robin could hear the distinctive sound of the gangster's .38 sounding, distant but getting closer by the second.

_Great; someone **else** hell-bent on killing me…_

He ran to the cathedral, getting quite short of breath by now, and hurried up the cracked stone steps to the boarded-up doorway. Through gaps in the rotten boards he could see thick black chain locking the doors, so that he would not be able to get in even if he _could_ manage to prise the boards off.

Trying not to panic as the guns came closer and closer, he went back down the steps and around the side of the cathedral, out of sight in the wilderness of the churchyard. The tall stain glass windows stretched from the ceiling to the floor, but these were not as well boarded up as the doorway had been, plus the glass of the windows was missing – there were several large gaps between boards.

But none _quite_ big enough for him to squeeze through.

He found a small one near the ground, however, which he shoved the Clock of Eternity through into the abandoned church, freeing up his hands.

Now all he needed to do was get in after it – easier said than done.

Eventually he managed to find a board that looked as though it was rotted right through and grasped it with both hands. Pulling it off still proved difficult, and he had to place one foot against the wall and really heave at it with all his strength; at last it gave way and he was thrown backwards to the nettles and grass and thistles below, the board on top of him. He shoved it off and got to his feet to inspect the damage – even after pulling a whole board off the gap he had created was still quite small, only adding a few inches to the gap already there between the layers of rotten boards.

Another shot sounded, nearer than ever, and he knew he didn't have time to go pulling off another board. He grasped hold of the edge of the boards and hauled himself up, squirming through the gap. It was a very tight squeeze, and at one point he thought he had gotten stuck, but he managed to wriggle through finally and fell head-first to the stone floor about a metre below him. He landed in a crumpled heap, battered and sore from hitting the floor, and tired from running and then the effort required to actually get through that gap.

Slightly dizzy, he looked up. The church was almost completely dark, except for…

Robin froze.

_Candles_…

Two thick church candles were burning at either end of the cracked marble altar table, illuminating the whole church extremely weakly with their glow.

Burning candles that implied there was someone else here too – he could only hope that this other person – or _people_, he supposed - didn't want to kill him too…

He hoped it wasn't some weird cult, like the one Raven's mother Arella Roth had been lured into.

Robin staggered to his feet and went to look for the Clock of Eternity with the aid of the scarce, flickering light. He retrieved it fairly quickly, then decided to have a look around. They would never find him in here; they wouldn't even _dream_ of looking in here. It was too tightly boarded up, abandoned too long ago…

And yet candles burned. In one way, he was glad; he wouldn't have liked it to be completely dark, particularly since he had accidentally blown up his torch. Trouble was, it was a signal of another's presence, and everyone Robin had met since turning up in this future world hadn't been especially friendly towards him.

He heard the gunshots outside fading further and further away and breathed a sigh of relief. They had walked right past him, without even realising it…

Towards the back of the church he found a stone baptismal font filled with water. It didn't look especially clean, but he was terribly thirsty from running and hiding; he put down the clock and pulled off his gloves, cupping them together to satisfy his thirst.

He was enjoying it until he realised that it was holy water and almost choked on it. He was in no way religious, but while living at Gotham's Rectorial Orphanage, St Jude's, he had learnt the customs of the Christian religion.

Drinking holy water was a sin.

_So sue me…_

Still, he felt bad for it, and backed away. He wouldn't have drank it if he had known…

He left the clock where it was and pulled on his gloves as he wandered down the aisle, probably the way many brides had on their wedding days, but this cathedral was no longer set for a wedding. The wooden seats were broken and rotting, there were huge cracks in the stone floor and chunks missing out of it too, as though someone had been at it with a sledgehammer. The red carpet of the altar was torn and filthy, the stairs to the choir box completely smashed up. At the other side of the altar was another flight of stairs, leading up to the organ. These seemed to be in ok condition, and the organ towered high above the rest of the church. There were statues of saints, the Virgin Mary and so on, and a gruesome depiction of the Crucifixion of Christ painted on the far wall. At the very top of the church, behind the altar table, was another wall painting, this one of the Virgin Mary with many angels around her.

He found himself drawn to that, making his way up onto the altar and around the crumbling marble table towards it. It was a huge painting, and beautifully and skilfully done, portraying the Virgin Mary dressed in blue, her stomach beneath the material swollen by pregnancy. One slim hand was on her stomach, the other in the air, a pair of white doves resting on her first finger. She had a halo, and long dark hair falling over her shoulders, and around her many angels swarmed, reaching for her in what he supposed was protection, but in fact to _him_ it appeared more like they were smothering her. What interested him the most was the single tear running down her pale face from her right eye, yet she appeared to be smiling slightly.

There was something about her that reminded him of Raven, and her present condition.

Well, aside from the fact that she was dead.

But he was going to fix that; he vowed that he would. He would not let this horrific future become real in his own time.

Once he got back there.

Somehow.

He reached up a hand to touch the shining tear painted on her face, standing right on tiptoes to reach it…

"Having fun?"

A cold voice from behind him suddenly rang out through the whole cathedral. Robin froze, his fingertips centimetres from the Virgin's carefully painted face. He started to lower it again-

"No, don't move."

A woman's voice. It sounded slightly familiar, but he couldn't think why.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," the woman ordered. "I'm not having you pull any of your fancy guns on me…" She laughed slightly, but there was no humour in it. "Guess he finally found me, huh? Well, _you're_ not going to go running back to him to tell him…"

Robin blinked; not only did he not know who this woman was, he also didn't have the faintest inkling of what she was talking about.

But she obviously _assumed_ he did.

"_Hands where I can see them!_" She snapped, sounding like a cop.

Robin put his hands out to the sides, his fingers splayed apart so that she could see that he didn't have any kind of "fancy" gun in either of them.

"Ok, there you are," he said calmly, still with his back to her. "Nothing to freak out about…"

"Don't get smart with me, you little wise-ass!" The woman spat. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. When I tell you to, turn around, and don't do anything clever or you'll get a mouthful of shrapnel."

_Shrapnel?..._

Wasn't "shrapnel" another word for…

…_rock chips?..._

"Ok, turn around," the woman ordered briskly.

Robin obeyed silently, his hands still spread. He didn't know what to feel when he saw that it was her –

Terra.

A much older Terra; she was very tall, and much curvier than she had been at 16 – or as she was in Robin's own time. Her hair was still exactly the same shade of pale blonde, but it was much, much longer, falling past her hips, and instead of being perfectly straight as the 16-year old Terra's was, the older Terra's seemed to have acquired natural, voluminous waves. Her bangs were gone, and one side of her hair almost completely obscured one of those large blue eyes, mirroring Slade's masked appearance. Her face had thinned out and her body was now slim rather than skinny, well-toned and lean and agile. She wore all black – an almost-off-the-shoulder tight Lycra top that showed off her midriff with three-quarter length sleeves, and matching tight black Lycra trousers, again three quarter length, advertising half of her calves. On her feet she wore black leather ankle boots with metal soles and zips, on her slim hands wrist-length black leather gloves with large, folded-over cuffs to them, and a black leather belt with a huge silver buckle at the waist of her trousers. She was actually surprisingly beautiful – he had always acknowledged that Terra had been _pretty_, but he hadn't realised that she would turn out like _this_ fifteen years down the line. But he could also see that she had been through hell those fifteen years.

No doubt about it; she wasn't working for Slade anymore. _She_ seemed to be hiding too.

That was a point in her favour.

It was only as he stared at her in disbelief that he realised _she_ was looking at _him_ with the same expression of shock and incredulity.

Only she looked _frightened_ too.

"Hey, Terra," he said weakly. Strange, he did not feel the anger he felt towards the Terra in his own time.

Terra watched him for a while, silent.

"_Robin?_" She put her head in her hands, her wavy blonde hair falling forwards. "No, you _can't_ be… you can't be Robin… _get a grip, Terra_…"

"I'm real, Terra," Robin replied softly.

Terra slowly looked up at him, her expression unreadable.

"No, you're not," she said quietly. "You _can't_ be Robin…"

He swore he saw tears come to her eyes as she looked at him.

"You're _dead_…"

* * *

Terra! _Terra_! _TERRA_! **_TERRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!_**

Love her, hate her – I don't care. She's here, and she's here for a while. Remember a while back I said that you would be seeing a very different side to Terra in this fic? This is what I meant! It _is_ Terra – but she's an older version, with a different characterization. Terra haters, you might like her a little better in this form…

Or maybe not.

Roy is here soon, but for now…

Next chapter; life in suck-tastic run-down Gotham City, as told by a thirty-one year old Terra.

You wanna know why she's hiding in a church, and more to the point, what the hell is going on, you're gonna have to come back!!!

Review, _please_!!! It's my birthday…

TTYS!

RobinRocks xXx

P.S: And _because_ it is my birthday and I can't share my cake with you (my dad had it made specially! It has Robin on it! I know, soooooo sad for an 18 year old to have Robin on her cake, but whatever… I didn't ask for it, he just got it done secretly, which makes it even nicer…), I have a special treat for you all instead. Go to my profile (AFTER you're reviewed… just kidding…) and check out the two newest links I have put up specially for you – they are right at the top, as usual. They are links to two **hilarious** lip-synched _Teen Titans_ videos I stumbled across last night.

One is called _If Slade Were Gay_. And the other is called _The Internet is For Porn._ You might have seen them, or at least heard the songs, but check them out. You will be in tears by the end of them…


	9. Batman's Titans

Aww, thankyou all sooooooooooooo much for the birthday wishes last week! HUGS! And what a great birthday present – we are officially over the 100 mark! Hurrah! Triple digits, and there's no going back! AND we did it in a smaller number of chapters than both _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_!

As for my actual birthday, I got an iPod. Yes, I succumbed to the merchandising campaign. It is blue and so shiny… I decided I wanted one a few weeks back when I went to see _The Prestige_ and saw an ad for the iPod Nano. It is a very cool ad comprising of the recognisable black figures dancing and waving their iPods around, and from the iPods are these streams of coloured light (the same colour as the iPod). You have probably seen it.

Anyway, I like my iPod very much and it looks set to become my newest "second-to-_Teen-Titans_" obsession, overtaking eBay, which was always an expensive obsession… So I have crammed it full of all my favourite bands – Nightwish, Green Day, Puffy AmiYumi, Dire Straits, The Beatles, Placebo and the King himself, Elvis Presley, as well as a mishmash of other random stuff.

Yes, I _like_ Elvis. I like Elvis very much indeed. I even got an Elvis birthday card and an Elvis calendar and a four-disc Elvis CD collection for my birthday. So sue me.

To my dismay, however, my iPod does not emit beams of coloured light when I wave it around. I have tried, and I was disappointed.

You can also check out one of my _other_ presents; a little fic written by my lovely co-writer Narroch. It's an angsty little Robin-centric piece written especially for me, only it didn't actually go up on my birthday because the site was being S-T-U-P-I-D as usual… It's called _Trapeze Terror_ and can be found as the newest entry on my Favourites List. Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeee check it out!!! You won't regret it – and anyone who knows their Robin-background-history will be able to conjecture from the title just what it might be about…

Anyway, enough about _my_ birthday! Here's to the first reader/reviewer birthday dedication of _Remember the Titans_! To **YamiTai**, a loyal and wonderful reviewer right from _Asylum_ – a very happy birthday to you, today, Sunday 10th December 2006! This is a very special dedication because you are also the first birthday-person (besides me) to reach the one year mark. I dedicated a chapter of _Asylum_ to you last year, so here's to your _second_ dedication! Hope you have a VERY happy birthday! You are 19, right? Thankyou for all the reviews, anyway:)

And thankyou to all other reviewers: **Simmie **(ah, very observant of you. You are very good at picking up on these things, I have to say – the little things that everyone else tends to overlook. As for Terra, you will hear her story right here and now); **LoopyLousise123 **(yeah, everyone loves Roy… You'll meet him a bit later on. But if you want Roy right now, I actually wrote a RobinxSpeedy one-shot about two weeks ago which is up, called _Get Over Yourself_.); **Luneko **(you're 2nd December? Cool! You should have said, I would have mentioned it… Happy birthday for last Saturday!); **Poison's Ivy **(what do you mean, I don't have any known characteristics? As far as I know, I am a Sagittarius (the archer – like Speedy). And Scorpio comes after Cancer. Scorpio is the one before Sagittarius. And no, neither Slade nor Red X are in _Nevarmore_; there is no need for them. Red X is not in this either. So no, blondie is _not_ Red X. Yes, Terra has a huge part I this story, I _did_ warn you. Deal with it. And you're crazy. I love your reviews, but you're crazy… O.o); **Guardian of Azarath **(ah, yes, I am glad you are enjoying _Nevarmore_ too. thankyou for the birthday wishes!); **Syaoran-San** (yes, _Remember the Titans_ is a movie. About football. Starring Denzel Washington. And I stole the title.); **Half-demon Girl **(hey, you're back! Cool! Glad you're enjoying it. Raven will be back soon… ish…); **Me **(for heaven's sake, it's like the bloody Slade/Robin/enigma thing with you! "Who are you?" "I'll never tell you! Mwa ha ha!"… ARE you ever going to tell me?); **Kami-Elf **(I don't drink, but yes, I now can legally if I want to. But I don't want to. It's stupid, expensive, full of chemicals and calories, makes you look an idiot, gives you a headache, makes you sick, and did I mention it was stupid? Statistically, university students in Britain put on two stone in their first year of uni because of alcohol. TWO STONE! I know you guys have a different metric system, but that is a LOT. But on a brighter note, yes, I do like your reviews very much! They are very deep and thoughtful – you clearly understand the story very well, and I am glad. Thankyou! And don't you worry about me, I am way ahead of you on all counts… I think you will like what I have coming up…); **Quinn and His Quill **(I have nothing to say to you about the dice. Nothing at all. Go and find someone who will slap you across the face with a glove, please. Preferably a yellow rubber one.); **Seductive Angel **(hurrah, you caught up! And you _are_ crazy. But thankyou anyway!); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(an acid-spitting horse? O.o Where do you get these ideas…? And no, Terra is Terra. Not Robin's kid. Sorry about that…); **Ray1 **(I love the cartoon version of Terra too. The original comic book version was a B-I-T-C-H. I don't like her at all. But cartoon Terra, while she has her bitchy moments, is much nicer. And funnier too.); and **Narroch** (oh, you like _everything_! ;) But yeah, I thought you might like the whole _Batman: TAS_ edge to this future world, and of course, there's always Terra… Thankyou for my present!).

And now…

Batman's Titans

"_So_… the Titans are all dead here?" Robin asked slowly, accepting the mug of coffee that Terra had just handed to him. She simply nodded, her eyes still glued to him as though she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

It had taken some convincing – and an explanation about his time travel, with much gesturing with the Clock of Eternity, which he retrieved from the back of the church – to get her to believe that he really _was_ Robin, not a ghost, and not a figment of her imagination. She still seemed slightly wary of him, but had apologised for being so abrupt and aggressive with him and had taken him to the back room of the church – her home.

It was a large room, with a high ceiling. It was cold, but Terra had started a fire up and the room was gradually warming. It was apparent that she had lived in this church for years. She seemed quite comfortable, to tell the truth, with several changes of clothes, a baptismal font converted into a wash basin, and soap and towels and all the other necessities. She also had an awful lot of blankets and had made herself a bed from them and lots of pillows, with a single duvet for a mattress, and actually it didn't look too bad considering that she was sleeping on a stone floor. She'd also made a grate from rocks and lit fires in it to cook and boil water for washing and things. She had explained that she wasn't a complete recluse; she did go out from time to time, but she had to be extremely careful.

Slade was after her.

And he wanted to kill her.

"Yeah." Terra shrugged and sat down opposite him on the blankets laid upon the stone floor. She picked up her own cup of coffee – both were in cracked cups that had definitely seen better days, and the coffee was merely instant stuff, and not good quality instant coffee at that.

But, funny when you were desperate… back home, in his own time, both he and Cyborg would only settle for the best coffee their funding could buy; growing up in Wayne Manor had given him pretty expensive taste, admittedly. But now that he was cold and hungry and thirsty and tired… he had never tasted anything so wonderful, or so _welcome_.

"Fifteen years ago," Terra went on, taking a sip of her coffee. She put the cup down and reached for an unopened bag of bread, tearing open the plastic bag. She took out two slices of dry white bread and then offered him the bag. "Here, help yourself."

He gladly complied as she went on;

"Slade got you guys to go to a warehouse, then sent Cinderblock, Plasmus and Overload to kill you. I don't know quite what happened, because I wasn't there, but from what Slade told me, it was Overload that did the killing."

Robin nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, it seriously hurt…"

Terra frowned at him.

"No, Robin," she said, shaking her head. "_You_ didn't die that day. The _other_ four did; Beast Boy, Cyborg, Starfire and Raven all got electrocuted. But _you_ didn't."

Robin stared at her, his cup of coffee halfway to his mouth.

"Terra, I _did_," he pressed. "I got electrocuted. I remember it happening. It really, _really_ hurt."

Terra was shaking her head even more.

"In _this_ time, Robin, you _didn't_ die," she said firmly. "You weren't even _in_ the warehouse when the other Titans were killed. I remember you telling me years later that your motorbike ran out of gas halfway there. You had to push it down a back-alley and then go the rest of the way on foot. And when you got there… they were already dead."

"That's _not_ what happened to _me_ in _my_ time," Robin argued. "I _didn't_ run out of gas. I got there with all the others, and Overload killed us. _All five of us_."

Terra was shaking her blonde head a third time, not being able to comprehend it.

"But if you were _killed_, Robin, how are you alive? Why are you here now, talking to me?"

Seeing how white she was becoming as she spoke, he hurriedly reassured her that he was _not_ a ghost.

"I can't explain it," he went on. "I died, Terra; I _know_ I did. But something brought me back, and I don't know how or why. It didn't bring back any of my friends; only _me_."

"But surely events should have run parallel?" Terra stated rather than asked. "Why has history changed? Why did you run out of gas and avoid being killed in _this_ time, but in your _own_ get to the warehouse with the other Titans and be killed alongside them, only to be revived again?"

Robin shook his head in despair.

"I don't know, Terra. I wish I _did_…" He looked up at her again. "You have to tell me _everything_, Terra. Everything that's happened since that day the Titans died, even if _I_ didn't."

Terra nodded.

"Ok; hopefully we can start to make some sense out of this."

Robin too nodded in agreement, and Terra pressed on;

"Ok, that day… Beast Boy and the others died, but _you_ didn't. Titans Tower was destroyed by Slade's commandos. I mean literally _destroyed_, Robin; they tore it to pieces then burned it to the ground. I think the remains are still there on Titans Island…"

Robin nodded again.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I saw it; well, what was _left_ of it…"

"Well, Slade took over Jump easily." Terra hung her head, her long blonde falling forward like a curtain. "And I helped him." Her voice was soft and terribly ashamed. "I don't know what was wrong with me, going with him like that. He's a monster, but I was easily led back then. I thought that I owed him; he led me to believe that I did. And I suppose I _did_, to a certain extent – he _did_ teach me to control my powers. But… he had a very warped sense of showing gratitude, and I was stupid and weak, and I believed him, I lied to you and betrayed you, and the Titans were killed as a result of it…"

"But you don't work for him now, do you?"

Terra snorted.

"Hell, no! I stopped working for that bastard over ten years ago! I think I was twenty… see, we'd taken over Gotham, and Metropolis; well, you wouldn't believe how easy it was."

"What, with Superman and Batman and the Justice League all still alive?" Robin asked incredulously.

Terra put her head in her hands.

"The Justice League… _died_… All of them except for Superman and Batman – they weren't in the headquarters when it happened."

"When _what_ happened?"

"When I…" Terra sounded as though she was crying. "When I stimulated a landslide. Killed the lot of them; Wonder Woman, the Flash, Martian Manhunter, Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, all crushed to death before they could use their powers to save themselves."

Robin stared at her, speechless.

"You… _killed_ the Justice League?"

"Not _all_ of them. Not Superman and Batman…"

Robin saw red and got to his feet, furious.

"And what if you _had_ killed Batman, huh?" He snapped, angry and upset that Bruce could have been one of those so carelessly killed by the woman – then a teenager – sitting before him. And Clark too – he liked Clark okay, though he didn't think much of his "civilian disguise", consisting of a pair of glasses. And Wonder Woman, Diana, who _had_ been killed…

"I can't believe you!" Robin shrieked. "_You killed the Justice League!_ You could have killed Batman!" He jabbed at his "R" badge, hurting himself but not caring. "You know why I _wear_ this, Terra? Because I'm Batman's freaking _partner!_ And you could have _killed_ him, and you probably didn't even _care!_"

"You think I don't _care?_" Terra choked, looking up at him; her face was streaked with tears. "Robin, there's not a day that gone past since then that I wish I hadn't done it, that I had dropped a mountain on top of _Slade_ instead… They were _good_ people, courageous and powerful, and when I was a Titan they were out our allies in the fight for justice. And I _murdered_ them, Robin. I brutally massacred them when they were least expecting it, like a real coward. How do you think that makes me _feel?_"

"But you still did it," Robin said coldly, her remorseful words calming him slightly.

"Because Slade told me to," Terra said softly. "And that makes me feel worse, because when I killed the Justice League I didn't realise just how evil he really is. You wouldn't _believe_ the hold he had over me, Robin. And I was stupid, I did _everything_ he said, like I was his weak little puppet… and when I killed the Justice League, he told me that there was no going back. He said that I was as evil and terrible as he was, and that I belonged with him forever, ruling at his side as his apprentice… and I _believed_ him, Robin, I truly did. Even that day, when I killed them, I couldn't believe what I had done. I needed the shelter that Slade offered me, someone that wouldn't judge me by the horrible things I had done."

"I'm sorry, Terra," Robin said softly, sitting down again. "I… can't forgive you for killing the Justice League, but I understand what you've gone through."

"_You_ can't forgive me?" Terra smiled weakly. "Robin, I can't forgive _myself_, and I assure you, I never _will_. I can still hear their screams as they were crushed…"

Robin shivered.

"Well, what happened to Superman and Batman?" He asked.

"Ah, well…" Terra actually smiled weakly. "That's where _you_ come in. The Teen Titans were dead, and had been, by this time, for about five years. _You_ had disappeared, so everyone assumed that you had died too. But Slade knew better, and so did I. And then, one day, I was out… well, doing Slade's bidding again, when this guy in black suddenly attacked me. Really tall and buff, seriously good-looking, with this incredible long black hair and a mask… he introduced himself as _Nightwing_."

Terra winced as she recounted;

"And then he beat the crud out of me. When I came round he was gone. But he'd left a little note tucked under my shoulder; it read "The Titans are reforming. Choose your side wisely"." Terra smiled as she looked at Robin's expression, though she could not imagine that, thanks to Starfire, he already he knew of his future incarnation. "And although it was from this "Nightwing" guy, he'd signed it "Robin", and I knew it was _you_. I took it back to Slade to show him, because I thought he'd want to know about it so that he could stop it… and he went nuts. He gave me holy hell too; I seriously thought he was going to _kill_ me. He just didn't give me a chance to attack him back. Eventually I managed to hit him with a rock and used the distraction to escape…" Terra was shaking her head now as she spoke. "I never willingly went back to him."

Robin raised an eyebrow.

"_Willingly?_ Which means you-"

"I'll get to that, Robin," Terra interrupted. "So, I walked out on Slade, and I was just wandering around by myself, looking for some sign of this Nightwing guy. As it turned out, _he_ found _me_, and he was with Batman. He said that the Titans were reforming, a whole new team, and they weren't the "Teen" Titans; they were "Batman's" Titans. They'd been going around recruiting everyone they could get, some old friends, some new ones, and some _villains_, believe it or not – the ones that knew where to draw the line. Slade was slowly destroying everything, and the villains that joined Batman's Titans could see that everything was going to go bad and be no good for anyone at all. It turned out that those five years Robin had been "missing" he had actually gone back to Batman and trained more. I'm serious, Robin… you're gonna be _lethal_ when you're older. Nightwing was just… I've never seen anything like him. He'd eventually dumped the "Robin" persona for a more adult one, seeing as by that time he was twenty-one. So "Nightwing" was born, and the new team of Titans were born. And _I_ was one of them. Nightwing and Batman explained that they were going to wage war on Slade and take back Jump and Gotham and Metropolis and everything else he had taken over, and they wanted _me_ to join them. Actually, I don't think they were going to take no for an answer anyway, but it didn't matter because I agreed to help take that bastard down."

"So who was on the team?" Robin asked, subliminally taking note of the word "was" there; emphasised past tense…

"Well, there was obviously Batman and Superman and Nightwing, and there was a Batgirl, and another new Robin – little squirt, that kid was, but pretty impressive for a twelve-year-old – and a lot of other people I'd never met, but I got to know them really well. Have you ever met Aqualad?"

Robin nodded.

"Well, he joined us, under the name of "Pallais", who is a Greek or Roman god of water or something. Oh, and… I don't think you've ever met Roy, have you?"

Robin frowned.

"Roy?"

"Roy Harper. He used to work under the name of "Speedy"."

"Speedy!" Robin exclaimed. "Yes, I have met him. Speedy's a great guy…"

"Yeah, 'cause he's your flippin' _clone_," Terra giggled. "Well, he still shoots arrows, but he's called "Arsenal" now. And let's see, who else?... Bruce, Clark… we all used to call each other by our real names, when we all got really close. Batgirl was Barbara, and Robin was Tim-"

"Barbara Gordon?" Robin interrupted, surprised.

Terra nodded.

"Do you know her already? Nightwing and Batgirl were pretty close, but I didn't know he had already known her…"

"No, I don't know her as _Batgirl_," Robin explained. "But she's Commissioner Gordon's daughter. Red hair, really pretty…"

Terra sighed, as though jealous.

"Yeah, that was Babs all right…"

"_Was?_"

"I'll _get_ to it, Robin. Although I'm not sure you really want to hear it… Let's see… Selina Kyle? You know her?"

"Catwoman."

"Uh-huh. Guess that's pretty much it for those who were "good" in the first place…"

"So which villains joined the Titans?" Robin asked, interested in spite of himself.

"A good few," Terra replied wistfully. "Some of them were a little tricky to convert, though. We had Harvey Dent."

Robin blinked.

"Two-Face?"

"Yup. Harvey was a great guy, when he was in a "good" mood. Bruce talked him into it as an "old friend", but Harvey was really difficult to control…"

"So how did Bruce get around it?"

Terra grinned.

"Actually, it was so simple, it was genius," she said, still grinning. "You know Harvey's coin? And he flips it to make a decision, and one side is the "good" side, and the other is the "bad" side, right? Well, Harvey cooperated with us when the coin came up heads, but if it came up the scratched side up, or "tails", Harvey was a pain in the butt and Clark would have to knock him out. So… Bruce got the coin and superglued it heads side up to the floor of the BatCave, our adopted headquarters. And because Harvey was such a precise freak, he was always good from then on, because the coin "told him to be". He did try to pry it up with a crowbar once or twice, but he couldn't get it up."

Robin was laughing as she explained, thinking of deadpan Bruce doing that to poor Harvey; Bruce had a pretty strange sense of humour…

"So, who do we have so far?" Terra asked absently, counting them off on her long gloved fingers. "You, me, Bruce, Clark, Selina, Barbara, Tim, Harvey, Roy and Garth…" She smiled at Robin's expression. "Yeah; Aqualad – or Pallais – had a name almost as dumb as "Dick". _Garth_…"

"Dick is _not_ a _dumb_ name!" Robin snapped. "A _misinterpreted_ name, granted… and how do _you_ know my name, anyway?"

"Nightwing told me, duh. Ok… well, we had Edward Nygma."

"_The Riddler?_ You're kidding!"

"Nope. The Riddler was an arrogant bastard – he really got on my nerves. But Bruce got on ok with him, and Nygma wasn't stupid. The likes of the Joker went on a rampage after Slade busted up Arkham altogether, destroying almost as much as _he_ did, but the Riddler was one of the sensible ones who knew that a villainous rule by someone as evil and ruthless as Slade wasn't going to do _anybody_ any good in the long run. So Nygma joined us, although I'm pretty sure he was fighting for his own gains, rather than for justice. And Harley Quinn joined us too. At first she went off with the Joker," Terra went on. "But then he gave her the elbow the way he always does so Batman went and got her. She agreed to join us, but only on one condition – that her best friend Poison Ivy joined too. After that Bruce managed to talk Talia into it."

Robin raised his eyebrows over Poison Ivy, but said nothing about it; Talia he could see.

"So, that's Harley, Ivy and Talia added to the list," he said. "Who else?"

"Well, believe it or not… Mad Mod and the Amazing Mumbo."

"Oh, big deal." Robin snorted again. "Those two are _lame_…"

"On their _own_," Terra corrected. "But we partnered them up like Harley and Ivy, and… well, they were _great_ together. Mumbo's magic could make Mad Mod's illusions reality, and they used to take down loads of Slade's minions in one swoop. Seriously, Robin," she added, noting Robin's sceptical expression, "they _were_ good together."

"So what happened to everyone?" Robin asked. "What's with the past tense?"

Terra lowered her gaze to the blanket she sat on.

"We were beating Slade back," she said softly. "So he went on the offensive. I mean _seriously_ offensive. He and his minions picked us off one by one, exploiting our weaknesses. Superman went first."

"Kryptonite?"

"Of course. Just when he was least expecting it… I mean, it's _always_ been pretty common knowledge that Superman's weakness was kryptonite, right? _I_ always knew it, even before I first met you guys when we were teenagers."

Robin nodded slowly, feeling terrible for poor Clark and knowing how painful his death must have been for him.

"Is there anyone left?" He asked. "Apart from _you_, I mean."

Terra nodded.

"Yeah, but most of them were killed. Harley, Ivy and Batgirl were killed pretty soon after Clark was. Some lead on the Joker, and Bruce made the mistake of sending them to deal with it."

"What… what happened?" Robin asked, his stomach clenching. He couldn't have cared less about Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, but he _really_ liked Barbara, having met her a few times before.

Terra shuddered slightly, and it wasn't the cold.

"I don't know. None of us do. The three of them never came back."

"Then you don't know for sure that they were killed," Robin pointed out, helping himself to another slice of dry bread.

"Yeah we do." Terra shivered again. "We never, ever found their bodies. But the Joker, being the sick animal that he is, plastered loads of copies of this photograph everywhere. It was… _really_ horrible."

"_What_ was?" Robin pressed, getting a terrible sinking feeling…

"I'm sure you already know, Robin. You've had plenty of run-ins with the Joker. Let's just say that the photo wasn't as _amusing_ as the Joker obviously seemed to find it…"

"Smile gas," Robin muttered, putting his head in his hands. Harley was always grinning anyway, but not in the way he could picture now, that horrific leer frozen on her dead face… and Barbara… he even found himself feeling sorry for _Ivy_.

Slightly.

"Got it in one. Gave me nightmares for a month."

"Is the Joker working with Slade?" Robin inquired.

"_Was_," Terra corrected. "Nightwing and Batman… okay, I probably shouldn't tell you this, because it might not ever happen if I do, but Nightwing and Batgirl were… you know, _together_. And when the Joker killed her, Dick – _you_ – just… I dunno, went really weird. I mean, he'd already lost _one_ love in his teens, when Starfire died. I don't think he ever got over Star properly, but he got it together with Babs and he was okay. They really loved each other, and when Nightwing saw that picture… and Bruce flipped out too, when he saw what the Joker had done to three of his team, although I think he, like Dick, was more fussed about Babs than about Harley or Ivy."

"So what did we… I mean, _they_, do?" Robin questioned.

Terra shrugged.

"None of us ever found out. The next time the Joker showed up Bruce and Dick just disappeared and we couldn't find them. The next thing we knew, the Joker was dead. Neither of them ever said anything, but we all knew they killed him."

"Which one did?" Robin pressed. "Who actually…?"

"Robin, I told you, we never found out. They never even said that they had done it, but they did; _I know_ they did. They were in on it together, but I don't know who actually dealt the death-blow. The others all reckoned it was _Bruce_, seeing as the Joker was _his_ arch-enemy. But…"

"_But what?_" Robin whispered.

"But…" Terra sighed. "Look, don't take this personally, because technically it wasn't _you_, but I think it was Dick. You know, because of Barbara. Even after the Joker died – regardless of whichever one of those two killed him – Nightwing was never the same again."

Robin frowned, considering it. Terra was right, it technically wasn't _him_ that had killed the Joker, or watched Bruce do it – it was his _future-self_, Nightwing. But… he put himself in his older-self's position. At _this_ time he was not close enough to Barbara to kill the Joker for her, but he imagined that it had been Starfire instead, or Raven, or Cyborg or Beast Boy…

He looked up.

"I think it was _me_ too, Terra," he said finally. "I mean, my future-self. I think Nightwing killed the Joker."

Terra nodded.

"I didn't think any _less_ of Dick for it," she explained. "I was _glad_ he killed him – if it _was_ him, I mean. It could just have easily have been _Bruce_, but… I just have a feeling that it was Dick. But I never thought of him as a murderer. The Joker _deserved_ to die, and, you know… it wasn't petty superheroes-versus-villains anymore. It was _war_, and with Arkham none existent anymore, the only other place to send bastards like the Joker was _Hell_. Which Nightwing _did_."

Robin nodded in understanding. Strange; the thought of his older-self killing the Joker didn't sicken or faze him at all.

Maybe because he knew perfectly well that he was capable of it.

"Okay, what about the others? Who else was killed?" He went on.

"You seriously want to hear more?"

"I _need_ to hear it, Terra," Robin said urgently. "It's the only way we'll ever be able to make head or tail of this."

Terra nodded.

"Well, I guess the others were pretty simple deaths. Talia and Catwoman were gunned down one night when they were out on patrol together. Funny, those two never got on, but they always seemed to get partnered together."

"Bruce," Robin said simply. "Selina and Talia both have a thing for Bruce. That's probably why they didn't get on; they were competing against each other."

Terra nodded.

"Oh yeah, they were always all over him," she acknowledged. "You know, one clinging onto each arm. Sometimes he wasn't in the mood and would shake them off, but other times all he seemed to want was their attention."

"What happened to him when they died?"

"Well, he didn't kill anyone about it, but he was never the same either. Bruce had it really hard, you know. He never truly got over his parents, and-"

"Neither have _I_," Robin snapped. "Have you ever seen your mom and dad fall fifty feet from a broken trapeze? _Not pretty_…"

"Yeah, but you and Bruce are kinda different," Terra pointed out. "Bruce tends to wallow in misery – he simply won't _allow_ himself to be happy, like he thinks he doesn't deserve it. _You_ tend to brood on _other_ stuff, like things you can't solve or can't do. But I'll say this for you, Robin; you _do_ know how to have fun. I don't think _Bruce_ does. And just after Talia and Selina… Wayne Manor was stormed and utterly demolished. Alfred was killed, and "supposedly" so was Bruce. Since then he's let everyone think that Bruce Wayne is dead, so that he can concentrate on being Batman full-time. But he _certainly_ never got over Alfred; he keeps beating himself up that he couldn't save him."

"Wait a second," Robin said sharply, pushing his sorrow for Alfred aside for a second. "You're talking about Bruce in the _present_ tense. Is he…?"

"Still alive?" Terra smiled. "Yeah. There's no getting rid of Batman, is there?"

"Who _else_ is still alive?" Robin asked eagerly.

"I think it's easier to tell you who's _dead_ first. Robin died when…" She saw him raise his eyebrows and frowned. "_Tim Drake_, if you prefer, Mr Don't-steal-my-name-or-else. You were _Nightwing_ by this point, remember? Anyway, _Tim_ was out on patrol, and someone cut his grappling line. You said about your parents falling from their trapeze, right? Pretty much the same thing happened to Tim, only he fell a lot further. Absolutely _splattered_ on the sidewalk, poor kid."

Robin winced, remembering his parents lying crumpled in a pool of their own blood on the ring floor. It had been awful to look at, but at least they hadn't been _splattered_…

"Mad Mod and Mumbo were shot like Talia and Selina," Terra went on. "Pretty much exactly the same thing… Harvey and Nygma were shot too. Bruce sent Two-Face and the Riddler around the clubs and stuff to get some information. The gangsters shot the pair of them; we were public enemies by then, Robin, because Slade's commandos used to tear the place apart looking for us."

"I know," Robin replied dryly, and he briefly recounted the whole reason he was in the church in the first place – he had been running for his life from Chester Lambini and fifty-odd other gangsters.

"He was trying to talk me into selling the clock by telling me I could buy drugs and go to prostitutes with the money," he finished in disgust.

"Robin, there are boys your age out there in Gotham who _are_ prostitutes," Terra informed him flatly. She smiled slightly at his expression. "Robin, people are _desperate_. The only reason people _stay_ in Gotham is because everywhere else is just as bad – they might as well stay _here_. People will do anything for a few bucks, and I mean _anything_. The only reason _we_ didn't starve was because _Bruce_ is filthy rich. It's like the old days, you know, where the high-powered people have loads of money, and everyone else has nothing. Think about it; if you lived in Gotham now, exactly the way you are – sixteen, or however old you are – and you didn't know Bruce, how _else_ would you get money?"

"There is no way in _hell_ I would ever be a _prostitute_!" Robin snapped obtusely.

"What else then?" Terra pressed. "Crime? Slade has destroyed _everything_, Robin, even democracy. The only way to get money is to be a drug-lord or whatever, or prostitution. You have to give people what they _want_, and in this day and age, where everything has gone to hell, all people really want is an _escape_. Sex and drugs are the only way to get out of this rat-infested hell-hole, even if it's only for a little while. If you had taken Chester Lambini's money, as soon as you walked out of that bar, there'd have been drug-pushers and prostitutes – both sexes – pouncing on you. Hell…" Terra snorted as though she was amused, but she clearly wasn't, "you'd have had heroin dealers injecting your vein while you were busy trying to bat off the prostitutes already unbuckling your belt. _That's_ how _desperate_ people are, Robin."

She studied him for a second; he'd seen Gotham the way it was now with his own eyes, yet he still seemed disbelieving.

"Well, think about Jump City for a second," she said slowly. "The way it is in _your_ time. Ever been pounced on by a prostitute?"

Robin seemed to consider that for a second.

"Well… a group of girls asked me for an autograph once," he said thoughtfully. "And then, of course, there was Kitten…"

"But no-one practically dragging you down a dark, filthy back-alley with the intent of fucking your brains out to get your money."

"Well, Kitten-"

"Was not a _prostitute_," Terra finished flatly. "Whatever you'd like to believe," she added as he opened his mouth again.

"Ok, I guess not," Robin muttered grudgingly. "I still hate her though…"

"Well, people are seriously desperate, Robin. They need money, they need shelter and food and water… Gotham's kind of overcrowded, seeing as everyone who survived from Jump City came here. And that's what Batman's Titans were about – fighting for everything that people had lost to Slade and his rule. But…" She sighed deeply. "…One by one we were cut down. Pallais – or Aqualad, as you know him – went after Harvey and Nygma. His was a… strange death…"

"_Strange?_" Robin repeated, glad that the conversation had shifted from the topic of prostitution.

Terra nodded.

"Someone found out where Garth was living," she whispered. "We never all lived together, you see; we figured it was safer if we were all spread out. Of course, Harley and Ivy stuck together, and Bruce and Dick and Babs and Tim and Clark all used to stick around Wayne Manor, before it got wrecked. The BatCave always stayed intact though, and after that Bruce and Dick just used to sleep on the floor in there. _I_ always lived in _here_, and Roy – Speedy, or Arsenal – used to share an abandoned pad with Garth. There was a big pool in there for Garth, with an oxygen pump…" Terra giggled. "The guy had _gills_, for petesakes…" Her expression saddened again. "But, like I said… someone figured out where Roy and Garth lived, and they replaced the oxygen in Garth's pump with… _carbon monoxide_…"

"_No_," Robin whispered.

"Yes." Terra nodded, tears streaming down her face now. "Took him about half an hour to die, we reckon. He didn't even realise he was being poisoned… until he suddenly just collapsed in the water and sank to the bottom. He was the only one home, Roy didn't find him until about two hours later… by then it was too late; he was already dead…"

"And you never found out who did it?" Robin asked.

Terra declined her head.

"No. I wish we had've; I'd gladly have killed the bastard…"

"That still leaves Speedy," Robin pointed out. "And Nightwing. _Me_."

"Roy is another of us who refuses to bite the big one," Terra said complacently. "There's only Bruce, Roy and I left."

Robin blinked.

"So, _I_… I mean, _Nightwing_, is…?"

Terra bowed her blonde head sadly.

"He was the last to die," she explained, her voice catching. "He died about three years ago."

"How?" Robin asked weakly. Perhaps it was arrogance, but for some reason he had expected his future-self to be still alive.

Terra was silent for a very long time.

"_Slade_," she said finally, her voice so quiet Robin could barely hear it. "Slade killed you. I mean, _him_. Slade killed Nightwing."

Robin stared at her.

"_Slade?_" He repeated eventually, his throat dry; he felt like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach.

Terra gazed at him and felt desperately sorry for him. It must have been bad enough for him to hear that in this future, he was dead, that he hadn't been able to "cut it"… To be told that he had died at the hands of his despised arch-nemesis… she couldn't understand how he truly felt.

But she could imagine.

"_How?_" Robin demanded, getting to his feet, his gloved fists clenched. "Tell me _how!_"

"Robin, calm down," Terra said softly. "Sit down and stop raising your voice, and I'll tell you. I know this must be difficult for you to hear…"

"Difficult?" Robin laughed bitterly. "Oh no, it's not hard at all, being told your enemy is going to kill you, being told that-"

"_Robin, sit down!_" Terra snapped, losing her patience. Her blue eyes glowed yellow from behind the thick curtain of blonde hair and a piece of broken stone from the cracked floor rose up at her command, catching the backs of his knees and causing him to crumple.

"Thankyou," Terra said quietly as he righted himself and sat back again, slightly disgruntled.

"Ok, I'm listening," he muttered irritably. "Just _tell_ me…"

"Like I said, it was about three years ago," Terra said calmly, picking up her cup of coffee and taking a sip. "By then it was only Arsenal, Batman, Nightwing and I left of the reformed Titans. Dick got a lead on Slade, said he knew where to find him. So we all got together, planned an assault together, worked out every single detail perfectly together… we _really_ thought it was going to work, Robin."

"And _didn't_ it?" Robin asked softly.

"Well, no, that's the thing; it _did_," Terra replied pensively. "Roy and I took care of the security and the robot commandos no problem, while Bruce and Dick went straight to the heart after Slade. They found him easily, Bruce said, and started a two-on-one fight with him. But… I don't know how it happened, and neither does _Bruce_, but Slade managed to knock Batman aside. He fell into a stack of metal cases or something, he said, and they all collapsed on top of him and he got trapped. While he was trying to get free Dick carried on fighting, and he was _winning_, Robin, he really was. Bruce thought Nightwing had it nailed, but then…"

"But then _what?_" Robin pressed, leaning forwards.

"Bruce said Slade managed to get a hit in, a really powerful one, and it floored Dick. But Slade didn't fight fair, he didn't wait for Dick to get up again. He simply pulled out this gun, right, one he had hidden away in his belt, and he just emptied it into Nightwing. He shot him to bits, and Bruce had to watch. He said…" Terra put her head in her hands. "He said Slade just wouldn't stop firing until he was out of bullets, and _he_ had to watch him killing him."

"_But_…" Robin was lost for words. As much as he despised Slade, he could say that the guy did at least fight fair – sort of.

He _never_ used guns.

"I don't understand," Robin said finally, his voice hushed. "That doesn't seem like the kind of thing Slade would do…"

"Believe it, Robin, and believe it fast," Terra replied coldly. "Slade has _never_ cared for Fighter's Honour, believe me. He killed Dick because he was going to win, end of story. Nightwing was a threat, so he disposed of him. That's the way Slade is, although I don't think he ever realised _you_ would pose such a threat to him. I actually think he was more worried about Batman and Superman."

"What did Batman do?"

"He freed himself up while Slade was distracted shooting Nightwing, and then decked him from behind. Slade got _him_ though, too. He shot him in the leg. It weakened Batman, he couldn't win, so he just beat Slade near-unconscious and then got the hell out of there, carrying Nightwing's body. He met us outside and we just went back to the Batcave. After that… well, we buried Dick next to Tim and Alfred and the others – you know, except for Babs and the others we never found – and we were going to try and get on. But… we _couldn't_, Robin. We couldn't do it without Nightwing. It was just one loss too many…"

Terra sighed heavily, gazing at Robin sadly.

"So we quit," she said simply. "We disbanded the Titans. We admitted defeat and packed it in. Bruce, Roy and I still all keep in touch – you know, we go and see each other and stuff. But we don't fight anymore. We just can't win. And Bruce…" Terra buried her face in her hands.

"What about Bruce?" Robin questioned tersely; he was still in shock from being told that his future-self had been shot to shreds about three years ago.

"Bruce just…" Robin could hear the earth-mover's choking sobs clearly now. "Bruce couldn't take it, he couldn't take another loss. First his parents, then that Jason Todd kid, then Alfred, then Babs, then Tim… all he had left was Dick. And he had to watch Slade gun him down, just as he watched his own parents being shot… he seriously couldn't handle it. It utterly flipped him out…"

"What do you mean, "flipped him out"?" Robin asked warily.

Terra looked up at him, wiping her face on one of her gloves.

"I mean Bruce went mad, Robin," she replied softly. "He's a serious loony. Well, sometimes. He just stays locked up in the BatCave all day and all night, he never, ever goes outside, he just fools around with the computer and his gadgets… and that's on a _good_ day. If you're lucky he'll remember who he is and who _you_ are, although he can be very moody and you have to watch what you say in case you depress him or get him angry."

"And on a _bad_ day?" Robin questioned faintly.

Terra looked as though she was going to cry again.

"On a bad day… he can't remember his own name, he doesn't know where he is, you can't get any sense out of him, he'll talk to people that aren't really there… oh, Robin, it's _awful!_ I hate to see him this way, but there's nothing we can do. The grief and pain simply overloaded him and shattered his sanity. I mean, some days he's ok, though he'll throw a tantrum if you mention Barbara or Alfred or Dick or anyone. He's alright, really, he'll wander around the BatCave and he'll do research on the computer and seem pretty much normal… but then you might come back the next day and he'll attack you because he thinks you're a mad stalker, or he'll cower in the shadows from you because he perceives you as a monster; one time Roy and I went to see him and he thought he was a bat. I mean, he _really_ _did_ _think_ he was a bat, Robin. He was running around flapping his cape and screeching, unsettling all of the bats roosting in the crevices so that they all flew around him."

The thought of Batman skipping around in circles thinking he really was a bat almost made Robin smile, but it was not a humorous perception. Bruce had been driven to insanity by Slade, by intolerable loss and grief; his brain had simply shut down its logical thinking rather than enduring the suffering.

"If he doesn't go outside, how does he get food?" Robin queried, biting back his fury directed at Slade.

"Roy," Terra replied. "Roy owns a club in Downtown Gotham, mostly to keep an eye on things down there, and he obviously has licensing for food and drink. He always orders extra, some for himself, some for me, and some for Bruce. Either he'll take it to the BatCave for him, or I will. Sometimes we go together."

"You have to take me to see Bruce," Robin said firmly. "Please, Terra, you _have_ to. I _have_ to see him!"

Terra frowned.

"I'm not so sure that's a very good-"

"_I have to see him!_" Robin repeated earnestly, interrupting her. "Please, Terra, _please_…"

"Alright, alright," Terra sighed. "Tomorrow, okay? Which reminds me, we ought to see about finding you something to sleep on. You need to get some rest."

"In a second, Terra," Robin said quickly, fanning his hands at her in a gesture for her to sit back down again; she had been getting up.

Terra raised her eyebrows at him.

"Listen, squirt," she said sharply, "don't think you can turn up in this time and start bossing me around the way you used to when we were Teen Titans. _You_ aren't leading me anymore, and besides, I'm _fifteen_ years older than you now, so _I'm_ the one making the rules, ok?"

"Okay, fine," Robin agreed, distracted. "It's just that… I hadn't finished asking you questions."

"With all due respect, Robin," Terra replied patiently, "I'm kinda sick of answering questions right now. Can't it wait until the morning?"

"No," Robin said firmly. "We have to talk about… the prophecy and stuff."

Terra blinked at him.

"You know," she said finally, her voice weak," I'd almost forgotten all about that…"

"Well, _I_ haven't," Robin replied irritably. "I'm the freakin' _Avenger_, aren't I?" He peered very hard at Terra. "That's why he did it, isn't it? That's why he killed the Teen Titans, and that's why he took over the cities and killed all of the new Titans, and that's why he shot Nightwing – because in _this_ time, _Nightwing_ was the Avenger, because he's _me_."

Terra nodded slowly.

"Yes, I… Robin, we never talked about it, you know. Nightwing just… as far as he was concerned, he…" Terra sighed and trailed off. "It's complicated. We were just so busy trying to stop Slade from taking over everything _without_ the power of the Orb of Azarath, we just… kind of forgot all about it."

"But you _helped_ him," Robin whispered. "In my time, only _last week_ I was in Azarath having a demon exorcised from me. And _you_ helped put it there."

"I also helped to get it out of you again," Terra reminded him wearily. "Robin, I understand that you find it very… important – _Dick_ always did, when he was… well, _your age_, if that makes any sense. But when he got older, when we reformed the Titans… we had other things to worry about. Slade was a threat even _without_ the orb's power."

"And what about Slade himself?" Robin pressed. "Did he forget about it?"

Terra snorted.

"Are you kidding? He's been obsessing about that stupid prophecy for fifteen years."

"And he _still_ hasn't fulfilled it?" Robin asked incredulously.

"Nope."

"But he _killed_ the Avenger!" Robin burst out. "He killed me… well, _Nightwing!_"

"Yes, but he never found the key," Terra said calmly. "When I was working for him he used to send me and Cinderblock and Plasmus and Overload out on expeditions to find it, but every time we came back empty-handed. He scoured archives, read all these dusty old books like the ones Raven used to read, he tore museums and excavation sites apart, but he didn't ever, ever find it. I think he's still hunting for it even now, but I don't think he'll find it. Still, you have to give him ten out of ten for persistence, I suppose…"

"And I… I mean, _Nightwing_… just let it go?" Robin asked sceptically. "After everything that Slade had done in the name of that prophecy? After he… raped him, and put a demon into him, and killed his friends?..."

"He didn't ever _forgive_ Slade, Robin," Terra said softly. "He despised Slade with every singe fibre in his body; I don't think I've ever come across a hatred so terrible and strong as Nightwing's was for Slade. But he just stopped caring about the prophecy, probably because he knew that even if Slade managed to kill him, he'd never find the key."

"Why? Did… did Nightwing know what the key was?" Robin asked excitedly, twisting the Blood Diamond's chain around his finger. "Did he know _where_ it was? Do _you_, Terra?"

Terra laughed slightly.

"Don't be dumb; Dick was as clueless as _Slade_ was."

"And what if Slade _had_ found the key?" Robin pointed out scathingly.

"Then I wouldn't be here telling you this," Terra replied pleasantly.

Robin sighed and leaned back, enjoying the heat from the fire.

"Everything is just so screwed up," he murmured. "Well, I guess the baby didn't survive, at least…"

He heard Terra choking on her piece of bread and looked up at her again.

"You okay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_Baby?_" Terra repeated in a strangled voice, her face white.

Robin felt himself flush red.

"Oh, yeah… see, in Azarath… okay, long story. Basically, I got Raven pregnant."

Terra stared at him, her blue eyes wide. Finally;

"_Raven?_"

Robin raised his eyebrows.

"What, you were expecting it to be Starfire instead?"

Terra stared at him still. After a very long time she shook her head very slowly.

"You were right, Robin," she said softly. "Everything _is_ screwed up."

"Yeah? How?"

"Because in _this_ time, it wasn't _Raven_ you got pregnant."

Now Robin stared at _her_.

"What, I got someone _else_ pregnant?" He asked eventually, his voice weak.

_Ok, mental note; use contraception_…

"Yeah," Terra murmured. "See, in _this_ time, you and Raven… were never, ever… you know, _together_ or anything. It was Star you liked, it was always Starfire; you barely looked in Raven's direction. This is when we were Teen Titans together, I can remember that it was always you and _Starfire_, never you and _Raven_."

"So… it was _Star_ in this time?" Robin asked. "I got Star pregnant?"

Terra shook her head.

"No. She _died_, Robin, remember?"

"Yeah, but _Raven's_ dead, and _she's_ pregnant with my child," Robin pointed out. "You know, in _my_ time."

"It wasn't Star."

Robin frowned.

"Okay… Barbara, then? Batgirl, right? You said Nightwing and Bat-"

"No, it wasn't Babs, either. _Although it was a small wonder_," she added darkly. "They used to go up on rooftops and I don't think they ever once used a con-"

"Okay, _thankyou_, Terra," Robin interrupted flatly. "That was something I could seriously have done without knowing…"

_Again with the contraception thing… and no rooftops, ever._

"So if it wasn't Babs, and it wasn't Star, and it wasn't Raven…" Robin trailed off and scratched his hair, not enjoying this guessing-game. A horrible thought struck him. "_Eww_… it wasn't Ivy, was it?..."

"Robin, you'd probably have _died_ if you tried it on with Ivy. If her _spit_ is poisonous, I'd hate to see what would happen to the unfortunate guy who "got lucky"."

"Good point…"

"Alright, Robin, if you must know, in this time… the person you… I mean, _Nightwing_, impregnated… was _me_," Terra said softly.

"_You?_" Robin stared at her, gobsmacked. "You mean… you and me… I mean, the _older_ me, actually…?"

Terra sighed and shook her head.

"No, Robin, it wasn't quite as simple as that. Dick and I, we… never had those kind of feelings for each other. Dick had loved Starfire and then Barbara, and I… had always loved Beast Boy."

"Then why on earth did you-"

"I think I should explain it to you properly," Terra interrupted him quietly. "You need to understand this, because in _your_ time, things… well, seem to be slightly different…"

Robin nodded and sat back, picking up his coffee and showing her that he was listening.

"I can still remember it so clearly," Terra murmured, almost to herself. "It was the night before we were set to launch the assault on Slade. The night before Nightwing died…

* * *

Next chapter… opens with a flashback to that "heart-warming" little scene.

Please understand, I am not a RobinxTerra shipper. There is a bond between them, but it is a twisted one of similarity and understanding, not sexual attraction. I only like Terra with one person, and that person is Beast Boy. And as I mentioned at the end of Black Magic one of the pairings in this fic is Beast BoyxTerra. It's not particularly explicit, since Terra is working for Slade, but it is definitely in there.

But I have really pressed down on the Robin/Terra bond in this – and the reason for the NightwingxTerra-ness is because it seems to them that it is the only way they can communicate their mutual sorrow to each other. There is no – I repeat, _NO_ – RobinxTerra in this. Not with younger Terra, and _definitely_ not with _this_ Terra.

Ew, how wrong would _that_ be…?

Nope, the pairings in this fic are; RobinxRaven (main), RobinxStarfire, Beast BoyxTerra, one-sided (older) Speedyx(older) Terra (yes, he's here soon, and you read that right!), one-sided SethxRaven (heh heh heh…) and MarcusxJonathon.

And as usual, poor Cyborg gets left out. But this isn't really a romance fic, so there's no point with putting him with someone for the sake of it. Plus this is set before Season 3, so Jinx/Bumble Bee are not an option.

Not that I would _ever_ use Jinx anyway. I _haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate_ her…

As for Aqualad's older self… I am not sure what he is called, so I used Pallais. This is because he mentioned this name in the _Who Was Donna Troy?_ comic printed in the aftermath of her death at the hands of the Superman robot in 2003. It never mentions his superhero name (he is only referred to as Garth despite being in uniform) but he says "Pallais help us, what do we do now?" or something like that to Wally West. Soooooo… yeah, that's why he is named Pallais.

And in light of this… I drew a picture of Batman's Titans for y'all! You can find it on the DeviantART account shared by Narroch and myself, _Avenger of the Abyss_, to which there is a link in my profile. The picture will be the newest one on there, so it shouldn't be difficult to locate. Please bear in mind it is over a year and a half old (yes, _Remember the Titans_ is **that** old – I started writing it when I was 16. I am now 18… O.o) so the colours have gone a bit weird… The only one not on there is Superman. That is because there wasn't enough room for them all so I left Superman off because he would take up more room and because he is not a _Batman_/_Batman_ related character. I am not too great at drawing him either. But nothing personal, Supes! I do like him, he just isn't on there… Aqualad/Pallais' costume is copied from the _Who Was Donna Troy?_ comic.

Anyway, TTYS! Happy birthday to **YamiTai**!

RobinRocks xXx


	10. Terra Nova

First of all, I was in a bit of a dilemma because I thought I had lost my co-writer. She went missing, you see. I was gonna offer a reward, but she came back, so it's all okay… What Narroch doesn't know is that I plan to microchip her. I think she ran away because I gave her too much ficcing work to do all in one week, but more fool her for coming back…

_What_ ficcing work? Aha, well, as if we would let Christmas pass by without doing _something_ for it! First of all, you can expect a long-awaited _Small Print_ update later this week (_finally_!). That's not really for Christmas, but I'm sure it will make more than a few people happy…

As for Christmas itself, we have been working on something very special indeed. A brand new multi-chaptered fic, entitled _Red Rum_, will be making its debut on (hopefully) Thursday 21st December – that's this Thursday. For a little taster, I hope Narroch won't mind me dropping a few hints here. It is, of course, _Teen Titans_, but it has very heavy elements of _Batman: The Animated Series_ in it (kinda like this, in a way). That's because there's a string of serial killings going on throughout Gotham and Jump, targeting young superheroes; the first victim is none other than Batgirl, and Detective Harvey Bullock is on the case. Yes, we're using Bullock – the fic is, in a lot of ways, almost Bullock-centric. That's because the fic is being treated like a murder investigation, and it makes sense to use the detective's side of things. It does alternate between him and the Titans, however, who have a hugely important part (of course, as it is going to be categorised in the _Teen Titans_ section rather than _Batman: TAS_). Also, forget any comic-relief ideas you might have about Bullock. We are using him as a very serious character, because he's on a very serious case.

Anyway, the main reason for this massive plug is because any of you who have me on your Author Alert list won't be getting an email on Thursday. This is the first co-written fic Narroch and I have done that will be going up on _her_ account rather than mine. It's a big thing, but since any readers of our stuff tend to follow my status rather than hers because everything we have done so far has been on mine, we are having to start a major plug campaign.

So yeah, if that interests you, please, _please_ check out Narroch's profile on Thursday and take a look at the first Christmas-themed chapter of _Red Rum_.

_Red Rum_? Spell it backwards, kids.

Anyway, as for the Thankyous:

**Quinn and His Quill **(pure literary gold, huh? You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen… Quinn just out-right complimented me… O.o); **Guardian of Azarath **(very sharp, m'dear. Hold on to that thought…); **Me (**Nyes, oh god indeed, Elusive One…); **Ray1 **(Slade is in serious trouble, let's put it like that…); **Athena's Wings **(yay, you're back! Glad you could make it! Yes, see, little Raven fans? It's okay, you'll live without her. Besides, when she _does_ come back, you can bet she's kicking serious ass… Plus I _love_ long reviews! You aren't wasting my time at all!); **LoopyLousise123 **(yup, Batsy is still kicking around, of course… Glad you liked this and _Get Over Yourself_ and don't worry, Roy will be here soon, okay?); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(when you've quite finished running around the room like a maniac… Yes, he got Terra pregnant. It's a very screwed up future, okay? VERY.); **Poison's Ivy** (Yes, I love your reviews! They are mad, though… Um, yes, I avoided your motorbike question. And I am going to do it again. Talia is the daughter of Ra's al Ghul in _Batman: TAS_. Contraception…? Um… Maybe you should Wikipedia that one… And I'm not telling you anything else! Mwa ha!); **TheFallenAngel67 **(considering you're Mexican, your English is great! You're forgiven, dude! Glad you like the fic and I hope to hear more from you!); **Simmie **(Simmie, darling… you ask way too many perceptive questions you know I can't answer!); **Half-demon Girl **(glad you're enjoying it too! Don't worry, Raven _will_ be back, okay? Jeez…); and **TheLoneWolf8986** (Robin is going as fast as he can… well, not really. Gotta stop and have a cup of coffee first…).

And to everyone else… **Narroch** and, ironically, **YamiTai**. She's reviewed **every single chapter** from _Asylum_ right through _Black Magic_ to here, _Remember the Titans_, and the one chapter dedicated to her for her birthday she doesn't review… makes me laugh, I have to say… :) And Narroch, you runaway…

Yikes, scary AN…

Anyway, on with the NightwingxTerra flashback!

Terra Nova

Gotham City, three years ago:

"_You aren't worried about tomorrow, are you?" _

_Terra turned back to face Nightwing, who had broken the silence encompassing the broken church._

"_No," she replied firmly. "Why would I be?"_

"_You just seemed so anxious at the meeting. You were fidgeting when Bruce was explaining the ground structure."_

"_I don't need Bruce to tell me about the ground, thanks," Terra answered stiffly. "I'm an earth-mover, aren't I? I know more about the ground than Bruce knows about his precious bats!"_

_Terra turned away and stalked off down the length of the aisle, surprised and angry to find tears burning in her eyes._

"_Hey, don't be like that!" Nightwing called after her as he wandered languidly down the aisle in pursuit of her._

"_Leave me alone, Dick!" Terra snapped, pushing the heavy door aside to her chamber. She stormed through and slammed the door just as Nightwing reached it. He knocked on it and she swore at him from where she was leaning against the other side._

"_Come on, Terra," Nightwing sighed. "Don't do this. I hate it when you get like this…"_

"_And I hate it when **you** won't take the hint!" Terra yelled back. "Just go home already! I'll see you tomorrow. God knows why you had to follow me all the way here from the BatCave…"_

"_I just wanted to make sure you got home ok."_

"_Yeah, sure… well, now you know I'm home ok, so you can leave now…"_

_Nightwing leaned against the door and sighed again._

"_You're not gonna make me kick the door in, are you, Terra?" He questioned, his voice taking on a song-like lilt._

"_You wouldn't dare."_

"_Wouldn't I?" Nightwing smirked._

"_Dick, don't even think about it!" Terra said shrilly from the other side of the door._

"_Then open it!"_

"_Go away, Nightwing!" Terra snapped impatiently. "Why do you still treat me like I'm on your stupid little team of Teen Titans? That was a long time ago, "Robin". Slade's destroyed it all."_

"_But we're going to stop him, Terra," Nightwing pressed. "Tomorrow, Slade is toast, I promise…"_

"_Oh, right…" Terra sounded as though she was crying through the door. "You really think we're going to beat him, Dick? After he killed the other Teen Titans, after he made me kill the Justice League, after he killed Superman and Pallais and Batgirl and Catwoman and Talia and Ivy… oh, this list goes on, Dick. We're the only ones left, and I have a feeling he's going to kill **us** too."_

"_Don't talk like that, Terra!" Nightwing said sharply, annoyed. _

"_Why not?" Terra choked from beyond the closed door. "We can't win, Nightwing, you know that as well as I do. I don't know why you're kidding yourself like this…"_

"_We will win, Terra," Nightwing promised softly. "Perhaps not tomorrow – although God knows that's the intention – but we **will** win someday…"_

"_It's all just vengeance for you, isn't it?" Terra accused, her voice equally soft._

"_For our friends?" Nightwing smiled slightly. "Hell, yes. For the Teen Titans, and for Barbara and Clark and Tim and Garth… for them all, Terra. Slade is going to pay, and **I'm** going to make him."_

"_No," Terra replied quietly, leaning against her side of the door. "No, Dick; this is for **you**. I know what he's done to you in the name of that prophecy, what he's put you through… He forced you to be his apprentice, and I remember you telling me years ago, that day in the diamond mine… he raped you, he nearly murdered you, and then he put a demon into you, and then… he killed your friends, he attempted to kill you too… I can understand your anger, Dick, but admit it; this revenge is selfish. It's for **you**, for everything he's done to you…"_

"_How can you say that?"_

"_Because I know it's true," Terra sobbed. "I can understand your pain, Dick; trust me, I truly can. Just don't lie to me about it. You might be doing this to avenge the others, but moreover, you're doing this to avenge **yourself**."_

"_Don't **you** want him to die?" Nightwing asked incredulously._

"_Of course I do. He **deserves** to. He turned me into a murderer, he made me kill the Justice League… but the reason I want him to die is not even because of Beast Boy… it's because of what he's done to this city, and what he did to Jump and Metropolis, the hundreds of innocent people he's killed. That's not want **you** want, Nightwing. All **you** want is blood. And I can't respect you for that."_

_Nightwing was silent for a while._

"_I didn't know you felt that way, Terra," he said finally._

_Silence._

_Finally the door swung back and Terra stepped out from the back chamber._

"_I'm worried about you," she said softly. "Dick, you've always been like this, even when you were Robin, when you were a Teen Titan… you dwell on things, you just sink deeper and deeper into your thirst for vengeance…" Terra gazed at him and started to cry. "I know you hate to hear this, but… you're very like Slade in personality. I'm just so scared that one day, you'll just…"_

"_That's never going to happen, Terra," Nightwing said hollowly, reaching for her and pulling her into his strong arms. She leaned against his chest, emblazoned with that outstretched blue hawk, and sobbed._

"_I was born to stop him," Nightwing went on, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it. "There's no way that I would ever become like him. You have to believe that, Terra, even if you can't believe anything else…"_

"_And **he** was born to kill **you**," Terra whispered in reply. "He's one of the Chosen Few, Dick, and **you're** the Avenger… his whole purpose in life is to unlock the power of the Orb of Azarath after he kills you… you're bound together by a prophecy. It could be why you are similar, but it also means that inevitably one of you is going to have to kill the other; he to fulfil the prophecy and gain the orb's power, and you… to stop him."_

"_It's going to be the latter," Nightwing promised recklessly. "Tomorrow, that prophecy is going to be broken…"_

"_Superheroes don't kill," Terra murmured._

"_I'm not a superhero," Nightwing hissed, his voice barely audible now. "I'm the Avenger."_

_Terra shivered in his arms._

"_Are you cold?" Nightwing asked, his tone changing._

_Terra nodded._

"_Yeah, I think… I'm just tired…"_

"_Ok…" Nightwing released her and took hold of her wrist instead, pulling her through into the back room. He sat her down on her makeshift bed of pillows and blankets._

"_You can leave now, Dick," Terra informed him flatly, pulling a blanket around her shoulders._

"_I know. I'm just going to make you a cup of tea."_

"_Coffee. I don't have any tea."_

"_Coffee," Nightwing agreed, starting up a fire in her self-made grate._

_She watched him crouched over the fire with his back to her, seeing his long black hair shining from the orange glow of the fire as it started up properly – she could still remember him clearly as he had been over ten years ago, clothed in his bright red, green and yellow, that same jet black hair much, much shorter, spiky with gel; quite short and skinny for his age, with his round, almost heart-shaped face…_

_How he had changed now. His entire form was strong and powerful, and he was now very tall, second only to Bruce and Clark in stature. His face had thinned out, his features were more defined, with only the amazing blue eyes concealed beneath the mask belying the otherwise pretty foreboding appearance. And no more spikes now, no neat side-parting or combed-back cow-licked style favoured by Alfred; Dick Grayson's hair now fell in a wave of shining ebony halfway down his broad back, contrasting against his skin-tight black costume with the blue bird spread across the chest._

_He perhaps wasn't as impressive or frightening as Batman – who **was?** – but he wasn't far off the mark._

"_Do you still miss Starfire?" Terra asked him suddenly._

_She saw him stiffen slightly where he was sitting with his back to her, making two cups of coffee._

"_Why?" He replied finally, and she was unable to read the tone in his voice._

"_I was just… well, I know you obviously still miss Babs, but Starfire was twelve years ago, and I just wanted to know if… the pain ever went away…"_

"_My parents died **twenty** years ago, and I still miss **them**," Nightwing said coldly over his shoulder._

"_So that's a yes?"_

"_Of course. I miss them all, but… Star was something special…"_

_Terra nodded slightly, then pushed her blanket off and reached out, putting a hand on Nightwing's shoulder. He turned to face her and seemed surprised to realise that her face was so close to his._

"_I just wanted to know if your pain ever went away," she said softly. "Because… mine never did…"_

_He blinked._

"_Beast Boy?"_

_Terra nodded and hugged him, burying her face in her shoulder._

"_I know it was a long time ago, but… there's a terrible aching pain inside me," she whispered. "A gaping hole that Beast Boy used to fill, and it's been there since the day that he died. I… I miss him so much, Dick, I always have…"_

"_I miss him too. B.B was… one of a kind…"_

_Terra felt Nightwing's strong arms encompass her once again and nestled against his warm, powerful build. She didn't like Nightwing in a sexual way – she never had – but it felt good just to have his arms around her, to have someone to hold._

_To forget the loneliness._

_For just one night…_

**TT**

"…It just seemed to progress from there," Terra sighed, swilling her rapidly-cooling coffee around her cup. "There was nothing in it – Dick and I never liked each other in that way. But it happened; he only kissed my cheek, to comfort me… and then we started kissing properly, and then… well, you get the picture. There was no passion in it or anything. But I was so lonely, really aching for that kind of sensual contact, for an _escape_… and so was _he_. He'd lost Barbara and Starfire, and I'd lost Beast Boy. It was almost like we'd both forgotten how to love, and what it felt like to _be_ loved."

Terra put her cup down and sighed again, heavier than the previous time.

"He was so gentle, not like when he was fighting, but we weren't careful, we just… _you know_… and then we fell asleep. I remember being curled up in his arms… I can't tell you how wonderful that felt, to not be alone on that cold stone floor…" Terra looked up at Robin; the expression on his face was one of mingled shock, indignation and hilarity. "When I woke up, he was gone," she went on softly. "I got up and found him in the main church, up playing around with the organ. He wasn't embarrassed, but he didn't want to talk about it either… and we never did…"

Terra buried her face in her hands and started to cry again.

"…Because he _died_ that day," she sobbed. "Things went downhill from there, Robin. I told you before, after Nightwing's death, we disbanded almost immediately afterwards. I came back here, got on with life. I still went to see Roy at his club, and I went to visit Bruce… I didn't realise I was pregnant until weeks later."

"So what happened?" Robin pressed. "You don't have a baby _now_, do you?" He looked around, expecting to see a baby curled up in a shoe-box or something. But then, if Terra had become pregnant three years ago, wouldn't that make any child of hers a toddler by now?

Terra shook her head sadly.

"What happened?" Robin asked again. "Did you miscarry?"

Again Terra declined her head.

"No, I… I didn't want to tell Roy and worry him, and there was no point in telling Bruce because he's mad, so I just kept it to myself… I suppose it wasn't a bad pregnancy; I mean, I could cope with it okay… but then, one night, I actually made the mistake of going out to one of the clubs, just to break the monotony… trouble is, there's no such thing as maternity wear around here anymore. Everything I have is black and tight, you know, for camouflage… so it was pretty obvious I was pregnant…"

Robin nodded, silently conveying her to continue.

"So I went to some club," Terra went on with a shrug. "Can't even remember which one it was now. It was ok but I got bored so I was going to leave. I remember just getting to the door, then someone grabbing me and pulling me aside into this dark back-room. It was… Slade."

Robin stared at her, half-disbelieving and half-horrified.

"I thought he was going to kill me," Terra continued quietly. "I think that was his primary intention, but he just… when he saw my stomach he completely changed tack. He can be quite charming when he wants to be, you know, although it's all an act…"

Robin snorted.

"The only side of Slade _I've_ ever seen is the homicidal one…"

"Well, he seemed seriously concerned, like he really cared… he said that although I might have betrayed him, he still cared about me and he didn't want me to bring my child into the world to bring it up living in filth…"

"_Terra!_" Robin was appalled. "You didn't _believe_ him, did you?"

Terra put her head in her hands.

"Robin, I was so desperate and alone," she whispered. "I didn't tell Roy because I knew it would worry him, and he had other things to deal with, problems of his own – I started to avoid seeing him so that he wouldn't see my bump, and I couldn't confide in Bruce because half the time he didn't even _recognise_ me… and with Dick – _you_ – dead… how do you think it _feels_ to be carrying a dead man's child, Robin? One minute I felt proud that I was carrying a living, flesh-and-blood legacy of Nightwing, the next I felt so depressed I felt like killing myself, knowing that the father of my child was _dead_…"

She sighed heavily.

"But Slade… he seemed to understand that," she went on quietly. "He said he wanted to help… I know now that he was lying, that I never should have trusted him, just like I never should have trusted him that first time, when I was a Titan with you guys… but, Slade… he seems to have some kind of hold over me. He promises me something and I believe him. I don't know why…"

"And did you tell him that it was my… I mean, _Nightwing's_ baby?"

"I didn't need to. He knew already; I don't know _how_ he knew, but he did. Maybe it was the seer that told him…"

"The seer?" Robin repeated.

Today, in the warehouse, when the 16-year-old Terra of his own time had seen Raven's swollen stomach, _she_ had mentioned something about a seer, hadn't she?...

"Slade's best friend," Terra informed him dryly. She quickly explained everything within her knowledge of the seer – that it had been the old woman's idea to fire a demonic arrow into him, that she had told Slade of the prophecy and had put the seed of rape into Slade's mind, among other things.

"She completely manipulates him," Terra murmured, "although _he'd_ like to think otherwise. She's been controlling him for the past fifteen years concerning the prophecy, leading him on wild goose chases… I think she just does it for fun, she probably doesn't have any more of a clue about the key than _we_ do…"

Robin nodded, everything concerning Slade suddenly becoming a lot clearer to him; the arrow, the rape and how he had brought himself to do it, and how the Terra in his own time had known of Raven's pregnancy; it had been her _size_ that had surprised the earth-mover, not the actual fact that she was pregnant.

"So, he told me to come with him," Terra sighed, carrying on with her story. "He said he'd look after me while I was pregnant… and I… I believed him… I don't know why I trusted him, after everything he'd done, and after _seven_ years of fighting against him with Batman's Titans. But… but I went with him…"

"He didn't try to corrupt you again, did he?" Robin whispered.

Terra shook her head.

"Robin, I was stupid not to realise it. The thing was, he didn't try to corrupt me at all, and that was because he knew he couldn't change me back to his little puppet, not after I had seen his reign of terror from the _other side's_ point of view. I used to have terrible moods towards the end of my pregnancy, and I used to shout at him and call him a sick bastard and tell him what I really thought of him… and he never did anything. I think it amused him, because he knew that I wasn't going to kill him…"

"Why not?" Robin demanded. "Why didn't you just collapse the whole building down on him?"

"Robin, I… I can't kill," Terra said softly. "I haven't even been able to kill so much as a _spider_ since that day I murdered the Justice League. It changed me, but not for worse; it didn't turn me into a murderous psycho. I can't kill _anything_; even the thought of it brings back those screams, hearing Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl and the Flash being crushed to death…" Terra sighed heavily. "And _he_ knows that. So although he still fears my _powers_, he does not fear _me_, because he knows I won't use them against him."

"Then you should have surprised him," Robin muttered darkly.

"That's exactly what Nightwing would have said."

Robin looked up at her, scowling.

"I _am_ Nightwing," he reminded her icily.

"Mm." Terra studied him. "And _I_ was carrying Nightwing's _child_. Slade was seriously sickly sweet to me, giving me everything I wanted, making sure I was comfortable… at first I just thought he'd gone as mad as Bruce, I never suspected a thing, thinking he was trying to coax me back into being his little rock-throwing protégé…"

"And?"

"And I was wrong. Oh boy, was I _wrong_…"

"What did he _really_ want?" Robin asked in hushed tones.

"I didn't figure _that_ out until I went into labour," Terra replied quietly. "It really, really hurt, and I was screaming and crying and stuff, so Slade said he'd give me something to calm me down. He gave me some injection-"

"And you _let_ him?" Robin burst out.

"Robin, I was in so much pain, I'd have let him do _anything_ to relieve it… so he gave me this injection, and it put me to sleep. When I woke up, he'd tied me to a huge metal electricity catalyst."

"What about the baby? Were you still… you know, _pregnant_, with it?"

Terra shook her head.

"No. He had cut me open as soon as I was asleep and torn it out of me, then sewed me up again…" Terra smiled grimly at Robin; he had gone so pale he looked as though he was about to throw up. "Don't look so surprised, Robin. I wasn't wrong when I called Slade a sick bastard… he had the baby in his arms, just standing watching me…"

"Alive?"

Terra was quiet for a while, as though she didn't want to answer.

"No, it was… it was all bloody, I don't know what he did to it… Robin, he _killed_ my baby. He killed it because it was Nightwing's child – he told me as he was standing there that the seer had said that it would become the Avenger in Nightwing's place, so he killed it as soon as it was out of me. And I was asleep, I as good as _let_ him murder my child…"

Again Terra was crying and Robin felt terrible.

"Terra, you didn't have to tell me this stuff," he whispered. "I'm really sorry…"

"No…" Terra sniffed and wiped her face. "No, you deserve to hear this, Robin; I mean, technically, it was _your_ baby… I wanted to kill him then, I truly did, after I saw what he'd done to my baby…"

"Then why _didn't_ you?" Robin whispered savagely; the thought now of Slade standing holding that baby, murdered and bloody and defenceless, the child of his future-self – so technically his _own_ – and Slade's once loyal apprentice. The girl whom he had corrupted, turned against her friends, forced to murder the Justice League…

It made him furious.

"I _tried_," Terra whispered, near tears again. "But the seer was there, she protected him, she put up barriers around herself and him every time I threw boulders and earth at him… Eventually they left, and he just… threw my dead baby down like it was a broken doll… I found it really hard to get free, they'd chained me up so tightly – I had to practically cause an earthquake to get the chains to snap. Once I did I picked up the baby and took it back to the BatCave. Roy was there and I had to confess it all to him; I've never seen him look so shocked, or so hurt that I hadn't confided in him, that I had trusted _Slade_ over him and Bruce. I think he forgives me, but…" Terra sighed heavily, wiping more tears from her blue eyes. "I don't think he really _trusts_ me anymore…"

"What about Bruce?"

"Bruce was on a "bad" day," Terra murmured. "He was just sitting at the computer mainframe typing random keys; I don't think he even realised Roy and I were _there_, so we didn't tell him. Roy and I buried the baby next to Dick's grave and never said anything else about it."

"Was it a girl or a boy?"

Silence.

"He'd… mutilated it so badly… I couldn't tell," Terra whispered. "I know that sounds stupid… I think it might have been a girl, but…"

"Did you name it?"

"No. It just seemed to… hurt less…"

Robin nodded slightly, feeling guilty; he hadn't meant to uproot such terrible memories, reopen scars that were barely healed…

"Well, in _my_ time," he said softly, "_Raven_ is carrying my baby, and…"

"And _you_ should think about using a condom," Terra finished flatly, a trace of a smile on her face.

Robin scowled.

"Yeah, I've been kicking myself for that since the very _second_ Raven told me. But… we _were_ in Azarath, so I'm not entirely sure that we would have _found_ one…"

"You shouldn't have done it, then."

"I was possessed by a demon that fed off indulgence," Robin replied tersely. "I couldn't exactly _help_ it. Neither of us intended for her to get _pregnant_, though…"

"Same here. I guess I shouldn't really lecture you, should I? Not when Nightwing… well, the _older_ you and I did exactly the same thing…"

"Mm." Robin gazed absently into the fire. For some reason, he trusted _this_ Terra more so than even maybe the other Teen Titans. Maybe because of the pain she had been through, the crap she had suffered at Slade's expense…

So he told her everything that was worrying him. Seth Elliott, everything he had had known, Raven's pregnancy and how fast it was developing, the fact that even though Raven was dead, when he had placed his hand on her stomach, he had felt the baby kick, implying that it was still alive…

Terra stared at him as he finished speaking; he drained the rest of his cool coffee to satiate his dry throat.

"_Whoa_," she offered finally, her large blue eyes even wider.

"Well, does any of it ring a bell?" Robin asked, setting down his empty cup. "I know that we've established that this future is a bit screwed, what with me _not_ dying with the other Titans, and then me getting _you_ pregnant instead of _Raven_, but _years_ _later_… None of it seems to make any kind of sense. Did I… did _Nightwing_ ever mention anything about his time in Azarath? Anything about Seth Elliott?"

Terra shook her head.

"That's not to say none of it _happened_," she added quickly, seeing his dismayed expression. "But… well, Nightwing didn't really say an awful lot. There was a lot of stuff that I didn't know about him; I don't even think Bruce or Babs knew _everything_, you know. Dick was… very good at keeping secrets…"

Robin squirmed uncomfortably at that. Yes, it was true; he _was_. There was still that one terrible secret he had; something that he had not deigned to tell even Terra, even though he had told her everything _else_.

That night in Arkham Asylum, before Slade had raped him… they had kissed, touched each other… It made him feel sick every time he thought about it; _why_ had it happened? He still couldn't understand it…

He yawned, suddenly overcome with tiredness.

"Come on, mister," Terra said, her demeanour suddenly becoming "older and superior" again. "You need to get some sleep. You stay there, I'll go and find you some blankets and stuff…"

Robin was too tired to even argue; the caffeine in his coffee hadn't done anything to help him keep awake. Still, it was very late – _early_, even, if you wanted to be precise – and he'd had a long, hard day, what with dying, being brought back to life, acquiring new powers and then travelling fifteen years into the future, only to be chased by gangsters and then…

He yawned again, just wanting to collapse there on the cold stone floor and sleep.

"Here you are," Terra said brightly, coming back with her arms full of blankets and pillows. She dumped them on the floor next to him and held up something else.

"You can sleep in this tonight," she went on, holding it out to him. It was a big black sweater, lovely and warm and soft, made from a fleecy material.

"It was Nightwing's," she explained as he took it from her. "He gave it to me one time when I complained how cold it could get in here at night. I figured you wouldn't want to wear anything of mine, but this is technically _yours_ anyway, so…"

Robin nodded, getting to his feet. Terra pointed to the far corner of the room.

"There, you can change over there. And tomorrow we'll get you some proper clothes."

Robin blinked and looked down at himself.

"Hey, what's wrong with-?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" Terra interrupted. "Those gangsters tried to kill you because they recognised you as a superhero. You can't wear that pretty little costume around here, Robin; it's a death wish. Don't worry, I've got a whole crate of black leather and Lycra stuff, all cast offs from some chain store. There's stuff for all sizes and both sexes in there; I'm sure we can find something that will fit you."

"Leather and Lycra?" Robin repeated weakly, being reminded of that terrible apprentice outfit.

Terra nodded.

"Camouflage, like I said. Stick to the shadows, and you'll become part of them. And if it's tight it offers you better movement, so none of your little flappy capes or anything, ok?"

Robin simply nodded obediently. Black leather catsuits were _so_ not his thing…

He retreated to the designated corner while Terra made him up a bed from the pillows and blankets; he quickly pulled everything off except for his boxers, his mask and the Blood Diamond, shivering from the cold of the room. This was remedied as he pulled the sweater on over his head; it was very big on him, falling almost to his knees and the sleeves drooping several inches past his hands. Hard to believe that it would fit him in a few years to come. His future-self sounded… _big_.

It was a nice thought knowing that he wouldn't be this small and scrawny forever.

He wandered back over to Terra, his bright Robin uniform crumpled in his arms. Terra smirked at the size of the sweater on him as she took his clothes from him, and he scowled in response.

"There you are," she said, gesturing to the nest of soft pillows and blankets she had made up for him; he so was so tired that even the amazing bed he had been given in Azarath didn't seem to be as inviting as _this_.

"Thanks." He gratefully collapsed onto it and wriggled under the layers of blankets, surprised at how warm and comfortable it was.

"Well, goodnight…" Terra walked away, still holding his clothes.

He curled up and started to drift off to sleep, but Terra returned before he was completely sedated. He opened his eyes again as he heard her approaching and sat up slightly, distracted. She too had changed into her night-things – an immensely oversized black T-shirt and navy sweatpants. She dropped a few rocks onto the fire, dimming it right down so that the whole room was only illuminated by the faintest orange glow. It was very comforting, and made him feel even sleepier, but still Terra distracted him as she sat down on her own bed a few feet away from him and picked up a book that had been stashed beneath the pillows.

"What are you reading?" He asked sleepily.

She looked up at him from where she had been flicking through the book, searching for her page.

"Are you _still_ awake?"

"Only just. What's that you're reading?"

She held it up so that he could read the title; _Terra Nova_. It looked very old, a red leather hardback that was faded and cracked, the pages yellowed and flimsy with age.

"Roy gave it to me because the title has my name in it," she explained, starting to flick through it again. "It's Latin for "New Land"." She frowned at him over the top of it as he yawned a third time. "Now go to _sleep_, young man, or you're in _trouble_…"

He grinned faintly and settled down again, murmuring a faint "goodnight". He was slightly surprised when she leaned over and petted his dark spiky hair affectionately.

"'_Night, baby_," she whispered in reply.

He was too tired to pursue the reason behind this show of obviously-familiar affection, instead curling right up in the warmth of the blankets.

His last conscious thought was that this was a _terra nova_ indeed…

* * *

Ah, a nice cosy lil' ending to a rather… um, _morbid_ chapter…

Yes, I know there has been a lot of talking thus far, but this future world did need to be established, and I felt an older, world-weary Terra was the one for the job.

Anyone who cares; in Cardiff Bay, in the _big_ city where I live (Cardiff, capital of Wales) there is a bar called _Terra Nova_ – and this bar is the direct influence on the name of this chapter, no lie.

Anyway, again, scheduled this week; today's _Remember the Titans_, tomorrow (hopefully) will be _Small Print_. No promises, since I haven't even seen the edited chapter yet, but we'll sure try. Thursday is _Red Rum_, and later sometime this week too I'll be updating _Nevarmore_ because it's been ages…

Nearly Christmas! Whoo-hoo!

RobinRocks xXx


	11. Slaying the Dreamer

Yes, a speedy update this time, because I wanted to update on Christmas Eve and wish anyone who happens to read it today a final Merry Christmas.

Actually, I can't help but notice that of late my review count is dwindling again. Maybe it's just the busy time of year, but some of my regular people have all disappeared too… O.o

Anyway, to thank those who did review;

**Seductive Angel **(yay, you have returned! I've missed your crazy reviews! How many future worlds are there? Let's not go into that, since time travel is an extremely confusing topic…); **Quinn and His Quill **(how is _Malachi Claws_ coming along? And you are welcome for the Charon pic… I thought he turned out kinda cute…); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(I don't think Terra would actually make a very good mother – she's a bit messed up if you ask me (all versions of her). But yeah, you gotta feel sorry for her anyway…); **Simmie **(the trouble with you is that your questions are all very good and if I _was_ to answer them I would end up revealing the entire storyline… And yeah, I think we can all agree that Terra, no matter her age, is a bit dumb when it comes to Slade…); **Guardian of Azarath **(this final part of the trilogy is quite a bit more morbid than _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_. Killing the Titans off in like the second chapter doesn't leave very many other options… Will Bruce be having a bad day? You can almost certainly count on it…); **Me **(God rest ye merry RobinxStarfire haters, may nothing you dismay…Heh heh, there's a tiny bit of RobinxStarfire in this but moreover it's RobinxRaven, so don't worry…); **Halfdemon Girl **(you're not being annoying at all! I'm not going to kick you in the butt at all… unless you stop reading reviewing, of course! I love hearing what you think!); **Ray1 **(yeah, Robin's going to be on the warpath by the time Slade is back in the picture, and he's going to be in a lot of trouble…); **Coolteenzz **(I know, it is kinda boring at the moment… It will pick up, I promise… To be honest, yes, it is quite different from _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_, but it is all the same storyline, and it will all link up in the end, okay?); and **Crazy Insomniac **(with four reviews all in one go! Thankyou so much! By "shrimp" I'm going to assume you are referring to Robin… And yes, death to Jinx! What a lame cop-out that she turned good in Season 5. I wanted her to freeze too, that by-otch… As for Slade – don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him…).

All my vanished regulars, including old hands **YamiTai**, **Daybreak25**, **Rocky-White Wolf of Curses**, **Peace215**, **Kami Elf **and **Narroch **(_review_, you lazy bum, or I swear, I _will_ have you micro-chipped!)… And **Flying02Fish**, who made the awesome _Black Magic_ trailer… _Please_ come back! I miss you…

Anyway, let us for now take a detour away from Robin/older Terra/blahblahblah-ness…

…and return to Azarath.

Slaying the Dreamer

_(Slaying the Dreamer: From Nightwish – Century Child)_

"Everything goes according to plan?"

"As far as I can tell."

"To _whose_ plan?"

"Seth's, of course."

Arella looked long and hard at the Head Senator; at Marcus Vandiver, his brown hair tousled, his face worn and weary.

"_Marcus, what are we going to do_?" She whispered.

"We will wait, Arella. As I told you before, we shall simply wait. We can do no more."

"While Seth gets his own way?"

"At least we are able to monitor him. The time for us to play _our_ parts draws ever nearer—"

"And why couldn't that have been when my daughter was _killed_?" Arella interrupted angrily. "Tell me this, Marcus. You let those children die. You _knew_ what was going to happen, you _knew_ they would be electrocuted, and yet you—"

"And reveal ourselves to Seth?" Marcus snapped. "Arella, you cannot be serious."

"Azar's way is to protect the vulnerable where it is possible!" Arella challenged him. "And you did not!"

"You know it could not have been any other way. Arella, it _agonizes_ me that I knew beforehand that the Teen Titans would die, but what could I do? I had to let them. It's the only way. It's the only way we'll stop him. Please, you must understand…"

"My daughter is _dead_." Arella regarded Marcus icily. "Raven is dead, and yet… the father lives. The boy, Robin. A powerless mortal, like myself."

"Seth has great need for him. You know this. We _all_ know this."

"And what of the _child_?"

"I could not say. If all goes according to _our_ plan, then it shall be—"

"Ah, yes. _If_." Arella intoned the last word bitterly.

"Arella…" Marcus put his head in his hands. "I am not a miracle maker. I am not a _god_."

"Marcus, my _daughter_—"

"Yes, you have already expressed your feelings on the matter." Marcus looked away from her. "For now, there is nothing I can do. And yes, I know you think it unfair that the boy has been resurrected when _she_ has not; and yes, Arella, _you_. You feel bitterness towards him, towards the boy, because you believe Raven's pregnancy to be his fault. You believe him to be another careless boy, ruining a young girl's life and then leaving her with the burden."

"And is that not what he _is_?" Arella snapped.

"Seth has engineered this. You _know_ that, Arella. Do not make this difficult. Do not feel hatred you have no cause for."

"It is difficult not to."

"Then you must mediate upon it. Anger is blinding, Arella – that is partly why Azar abhorred it. If we are to defeat Seth, we must not be blinded. We must see all, and see clearly."

"And how is it that _you_ see all? How is it that _you_ know these things? Cordelia Silver?"

"No." Marcus gave a sharp shake of his head.

Arella blinked.

"Then…?"

"I have not seen Cordelia Silver for days." He glanced at her. "Have you?"

"Now that you mention it, no," Arella admitted. "Then this means that her precognitive abilities have been useless to you? To our cause?"

"Yes. I have had outside help, as a matter of fact."

"From?" Arella asked sharply, looking at him warily.

"For now, do not worry yourself over the matter."

"If it's all the same to you, Marcus, I think I will," Arella replied coldly. "We are in the midst of a war against a rebellious former Head of Senate, seemingly intent on destroying us all, no-one seems to be clear in all aspects of the situation, and now you cite that you are receiving help from an outside source? I do beg your pardon for pursuing the matter so, but I can't help but be wary."

"Arella, I understand your concern, but I would prefer it if you would leave the matter be," Marcus snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"This is _why_ everything has gone to hell!" Arella spat, grasping his shoulder. "Too many lies, too many secrets… Marcus, Seth has spent his entire _life_ deceiving people, and now _you_ are adopting the same patterns as him?"

Marcus pulled away from her.

_Jonathon_ had said that too, hadn't he? That Marcus was beginning to act like Seth. He had said it the day he had _died_.

The day _Seth_ had killed him.

The Head Senator shivered.

"I will never be like Seth," he said in a low voice. "Seth is a murderer."

"But you are becoming so calculating, it is almost—"

"Be _silent_, Arella!" Marcus shouted, rounding on her. "Do not torment me so!"

Arella stared at him.

"I… _torment_?" She reached for his shoulder once more, and, again, he recoiled from her reach.

"Leave me, Arella," he said icily, presenting her with his back. "I can do nothing for you at this time. I cannot comfort you… and it would appear that _you_ cannot comfort _me_ either…"

"Marcus, Jonathon's death has brought pain and sorrow to us all."

"You do not understand."

"What _is_ there to understand?" Arella demanded.

"_Leave_."

Marcus moved towards the window of his office; it was dark out once more, and the rain fell. He was no longer interested in talking to Arella, and had not been best pleased to see her in the _first_ place.

She had interrupted a meditative state – the state in which he received his "outside information".

A state in which he was far _happier_.

Arella was silent for a moment or two, gazing at the back of the Head Senator's crimson robes.

"You loved him, didn't you?" She asked finally, her voice soft. "You… and he… there was _something_. You were in _love_, the pair of you."

In the reflection of the dark window, she saw Marcus' eyes widen, then narrow again.

"That is not your concern," he replied icily, still not turning to her.

"Well—"

"And how can you make such a claim anyway?" Marcus rattled on. "Tell me this, Arella."

"I… when Seth… killed him, I heard him say… that you had _kissed_. You and Jonathon…"

"It is of no consequence."

"But you are doing this. This is revenge, Marcus. This is _vengeance_."

"I do what I do for the good of Azarath and the Earth."

"And for Jon—"

"_Get out, Angela_!" Marcus interrupted furiously.

Arella blinked at him, in particular for referring to her by her birth name.

"Very well, Marcus," she said stiffly at last. "I will obey your wishes, but know this; you are in pain because you have lost one you love to Seth and his design. Well, so have I; _my daughter_. And if you're going to stop that monster from harming anyone else – that _boy_ you keep defending, for example – then you had better do it pretty damn quickly."

She turned on her heel and made for the door. Reaching it, she turned back and regarded him coldly.

"And my name is _Arella_."

She slammed the door behind her.

Marcus bowed his head, biting his lip to stop the tears.

She was right, of course; right about _everything_.

The slayer of his dreams.

As a few escaped tears slid down his face, he lifted a finger and drew in the condensation on the glass – caused by the rain – a capital "A".

And then he rubbed it off again.

**TT**

_He was reminded of Led Zeppelin._

_What was this; Stairway to Heaven?_

_Where he found himself was a place of utmost darkness – behind him, around him, was nothingness. Pure black emptiness. _

_Only a staircase ascended above; stone, uneven at that, twisting upwards out of sight, as those of a medieval castle or battlement. The walls were lit with flaming torches._

_It was strangely familiar to him, and yet he knew he had never seen it before._

_He knew he would see it again._

_Sometime. Somehow._

_To learn. To know. To **save**._

_He followed it upwards, compelled to follow the twisting shape of it. He had no choice but to walk on, ascending higher and higher, as though **on** a stairway that stretched right up to heaven._

_The pathway – the stairway – of the Chosen._

_The Avenger._

_The destroyer._

_He came to a door._

_And, upon opening it, he found nothing once again._

_Not heaven._

_Blackness – emptiness – he could draw no meaning from._

_It was meaningless. All of it. He sought reason and knew he would find none. There was no purpose for any of it._

_Lies._

_All of it; **lies**._

_Nothing worth…_

…_remembering._

_Ah, yes, this was what it was._

_It dawned on him; nothing more than a gentle surprise. In real life, perhaps he would have **screamed**._

_Not here._

_To find himself surrounded by graves; no, that did not surprise him. Not here._

_Cyborg._

_Beast Boy._

_Starfire._

_He walked past them without a word._

_They were cracked, strangled by ivy and moss; decades old. Maybe a century._

_He still lived._

_He lived, not a day older than he should have been._

_The Century Child._

_(Yes, that was what he was; of course it was…)_

_He walked past them without a word; without a sound; without a tear._

_His wrist stung._

_Black velvet curtains; heavy, draped – reminiscent of the wings he had once bore. He pushed through them and found Terra._

_Not just Terra._

_Terra. And Terra._

_Two of them._

_One the young girl – the renegade **Titan** – who ran against them in his own time._

_The second the older version. The beauteous sinner. With curves in her hair and in her hips._

_The younger incarnation knelt on the floor and wept, her straight gold hair a curtain between her and the world that had rejected her; and she it._

_The older version was dead._

_On her back on the ground, her similarly gold hair a blanket beneath her._

_Terra – younger Terra – looked up at him, her face streaked with tears._

"_You…" She whispered._

"_Me," Robin replied softly. He offered her his hand but she shrank back from him._

"_I cannot. You…" Her face contorted, showing anger. "You… what you have taken from me! You have **stolen** from me! It's all about you, always about **you**…! And look…"_

_She pointed at the older version wildly._

"_I have taken nothing from you, Terra," Robin replied icily. "Anything that you have lost, you have lost yourself, **to** yourself."_

_Terra staggered to her feet, gripping at her scalp as though she had a headache of titanic proportion._

"_I am nothing," she muttered, her eyes wide and unfocused. "Nothing. Nothing, because of **you**."_

_She looked up at him, her blue eyes still wide and staring._

_And then she laughed._

_Her laughter wild._

"_Nothing will come of nothing!" She said, leaning right into him._

_Robin backed away from the mad girl._

"_You are not nothing, Terra," he whispered. "You live. You breathe. You **destroy**."_

_He looked at her. At Terra._

_A natural disaster, just waiting to happen._

_A bad moon rising._

_He walked past her without another word. Past the dead woman._

_Terra watched him go, gripping at her hair as though in despair._

"_I have dreams, you know!" She screamed after him. "Dreams that you will **take**! Dreams that you will **slay**! You think me destruction, but I… It's **you**, Robin. **You're** the destroyer…"_

_He didn't look back._

_He came to another curtain, created of the darkness that was all around, and he put it between him and Terra(s)._

_Here he found Raven._

_Pregnant, dressed in red._

_She too lay on the ground, at such an angle that he thought that perhaps she too—_

_He could not run to her. The dream would not let him quicken his pace._

_When he got to her, he knelt, taking her head under one arm._

_She opened her eyes._

_She did not smile._

_Her look was one of dismay._

"_Robin…"_

"_Yes." He found her hand and squeezed it. "It's okay, Raven. I'm here."_

"_It's not okay…" Her amethyst eyes filled with tears. "…You have led him straight to me…"_

"_I have…?" Robin blinked at her. "Who?"_

"_Me."_

_Robin looked sharply over his shoulder._

_Seth Elliott offered him a little wave._

_Then he reached down and grabbed the Boy Wonder by the throat, hauling him away from Raven to his feet._

"_She is **mine**, worthless mortal," he hissed._

_He threw Robin backwards; he didn't topple, regaining his balance and straightening up._

_Seth reached for his arm, catching at his left glove and ripping it off his hand._

_He gripped his wrist, his long slender fingers closing over the "A"._

_**He squeezed**._

_Everything flashed and shuddered; as though, in this dream, Robin had lapsed into a sudden epileptic fit. Strobe lighting in his mind._

_Fire burned up his arm – or felt like it, anyway._

_Blood began to drip between Seth's fingers._

_And with a gasp—_

Robin woke up.

He sat there, panting, his breath rising on the cold air of the back room of the church.

He was still utterly out of it – not truly awake.

Trapped beneath the surface of a dream that had ceased, but not released him.

The "A" at his wrist ached, bleeding freely even though it should not _ever_ have been deep enough to cause such blood loss.

It was on his pillow, on his sheets, on the floor, and on his face from where he had been tossing and turning.

He absently rubbed it off his face, not even aware that it was _there_.

And then he lay back again.

Put his head back on the pillow, pulled the sheets back around him, and went back to sleep.

He didn't notice his bleeding wrist.

The burning brand of the Avenger.

And when he awoke again, he didn't remember a thing.

* * *

Ambiguous, yeah…

That dream (it _was_ Robin's, BTW… okay, kinda obvious at the end, but it's not crystal clear) seems utterly wacked and nonsensical at the moment, but when eventually you get right to the end of this story, you'll be like "_Ah_…".

Um, none that any of it actually _happens_, but it represents stuff, kinda like Raven's dream did in _Black Magic._

That's what I'm hoping, anyway…

Why is Robin's wrist bleeding?

The answer is actually in there…

Anyway, Merry Christmas one and all! Hope everyone has a great time.

RobinRocks xXx


	12. Brothers in Arms

This is my first update of 2007! Whoo! 1st January, '07. Unfortunately, since (surprise surprise) the review alert system is down, I could not possibly say when you will get to read this. Therefore, I hope that, whenever you get around to reading these words, you will have had a good start to the New Year. Hope everyone had an awesome time, whatever you did.

Also, I last left you on Christmas Eve, so I hope everyone had a great Christmas too! Anyone get anything amazingly exciting? I got a _Batman: TAS_ box-set which I like very much… :)

Today we return to Robin and older Terra, fifteen years into the future. I'm afraid today's chapter isn't terribly exciting, but again, you have to remember that the proper chapters of _Remember the Titans_ are a lot longer, and each one you get on here is like a third or even only a quarter of a full chapter. That's why some of them are boring and/or choppy – because they're only a chunk of a proper chapter.

So yeah, nothing awfully exciting today – I admit it. Just some more reminiscing and stuff… But at least Roy will be here soon, as well as someone else…

Thankyou to; **Quinn and His Quill **(take you and your hare-brained theories off, Quinny! Cordelia Silver doesn't impress you, then? Happy New Year, BTW…); **Guardian of Azarath **(more theories… the trouble is that a lot of you are on the right tracks…Oh, yeah, sorry… Which fic was it you wanted me to read again? Sorry, don't mean to sound dismissive – but you have quite a few, don't you? O.o); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(so _you_ don't like to be confused? You'd rather rationally work it all out? Sounds like a certain Boy Wonder…); **Poison's Ivy **(you _forgot_ about Seth? And _why_ do you hate Terra so much? What did she ever do to you? And yeah, this story is confusing. If it wasn't, would you even _read_ it?); **Ray1 **(that assumption isn't too far off the mark… :P); **Me **(um, Happy Christmas to you too, O Unknown One…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(your English is just fine, seriously!I think it was about time Arella showed up again – and "Slaying the Dreamer" is a song by Nightwish…); **CrazyInsomniac **(Robin wouldn't be any fun at all if his life was anywhere near normal! Besides, even _without_ all of the extra torture inflicted on him by the world's fanfiction authors, the _Teen Titans_ show itself isn't exactly kind to him – being turned into an old man, having an annoying mini-doppelganger popping out of his skull and being frozen to a Robin-shaped popsicle being prime examples, of course…); **Athena's Wings **(I think we'd all like to be able to have the kind of prophetic dreams where we can see all the exam questions… Does the bracelet with the gear on have anything to do with the storyline? Of course. _What_? Not telling. Mwa ha.); **Kami-Elf **(you have returned once again! Hurrah! You wanna know something odd? You know the chapter _Shock to the System_ (a couple of chapters back now)? The original title for that chapter was none other than _Thunderbird_! Like a play on the spaceships… But at the last minute I changed it to _Shock to the System_, which is the _Static Shock_ tagline… Brilliant minds think alike, dude! Sorry about your results, BTW. We don't have Grade Point Averages over here (I'm going to assume that is what GPA stands for…). You copy our Brit speak all you want, BTW…); **YamiTai **(I knew you wouldn't leave me! You are very welcome for the dedication – I'm just glad you liked it! Hear from you again whenever you get your internet back! Hope you had a Merry Christmas! I know you celebrate it in a big way in Germany…); and **Simmie **(ah, yes, good question – the bits with Marcus/Arella are **not** in the future, no. I should have explained that. They are still in the "present day". Sorry, yeah, that was a good question – and for once, I can answer you!).

And now, for a little bit of Dire Straits…

Brothers in Arms

Robin awoke to the unpleasant sensation of what felt like ice being pressed against the side of his face. He blinked and sat up sleepily, absently rubbing his freezing cheek; it was so cold it was numb.

It was still quite dark although it was morning, and at first he had trouble remembering where he was; once he had fought his way through _that_ cliché, he realised that he was in the back room of Gotham City Cathedral, the home of a fifteen-year-older Terra gone renegade.

And the "ice", he realised, was not ice at all; it was the stone floor. He was still curled up snug and tight within his little nest of blankets and pillows, but one of the pillows had slipped, causing the side of his face to rest against the ice-cold floor instead. And it was dark because there was only one window in the room, and Terra had boarded most of it up to conserve the idea that the place was abandoned – only a few slithers of daylight broke through the barricade.

Wondering vaguely what time it was, Robin wriggled back down into the warmth, not feeling like venturing out beyond his blankets. It really _was_ cold in here, especially with the fire now dead, and he suspected that it was winter in this devastated future, instead of the reasonably-warm September it was in his own time.

However, while he enjoyed the luxury of just being curled up nice and warm like a little hibernating field mouse, he couldn't drift back to sleep again.

No good; he sat up once again, stretching, and shivered slightly despite the oversized fleecy sweater he was wearing over his black boxer shorts. He looked across at Terra; in the narrow shafts of light he could see her wrapped up warmly within her own blankets a few feet away from him, sound asleep with her long, wavy blonde hair all over her face.

When he had first arrived in the horrible, twisted future world, straight from his own death at Slade's hand, the _last_ person he had wanted to meet was Slade's apprentice, the earth-mover Terra. Now, as he looked at her, he was _glad_ that it was her. This was not the Terra of his own time; _this_ Terra had been through enough pain and grief to know where she stood, and it was _not_ at Slade's side.

He reckoned it was still quite early – the light peeking through the gaps in the boards was dull, as though the sun had not fully risen – and didn't want to wake her. But he also didn't want to just lie here, however warm and comfortable he was. He absently checked on the Clock of Eternity – it was exactly where he had left it, right beside his "bed" – and sat up, kicking off his many blankets.

And then he saw the blood.

Alarmed, he looked around wildly. On the pillow and the sheets and a little on the stone floor.

Had he cut himself? A nosebleed?

He brushed his fingertips over the bridge of his nose, as though adjusting a pair of glasses, feeling for an ache; but there was nothing. Nothing on his lip either.

He eventually traced the blood to his wrist, and the "A" inscribed there; the "A" that wouldn't seem to heal, despite being shallow and having been there for a week. It was deeper than before, as though roughly reopened with a scalpel – dried blood encrusted the whole underside of his wrist. The bleeding had stopped now, but he was astounded by the amount that had wept from such a small, shallow wound.

He rubbed the dried blood away from his wrist, perplexed; what could have reopened it to the extent that it had bled all over the place?

He hoped Terra wouldn't be too narked at him for it. It wasn't as though he could have prevented it, but even so…

He got up, starting to shiver immediately – the sweater kept his top half warm, but his bare legs were freezing, as were his feet. He looked around and saw his uniform neatly folded by Terra's wash basin/baptismal font; he quickly scuttled over to it and retrieved his green trousers and his boots, which warmed him up slightly. He kept with the sweater, however, it being warmer than his red-shirt-and-cape combo, and crept out of the back room as quietly as his heavy boots would allow him; Terra simply rolled over in her sleep.

The main church was much brighter, but colder still. Robin could actually see his breath condensing on the cold air as he breathed, rubbing his arms beneath the sweater. But he smiled despite that, because… there were stained-glass windows high up on the back wall of the church, above the entrance, which were far too high to be smashed in and boarded-up. The winter morning light was shining through them, casting rays of melted coloured light all through the church, across the altar, up the aisle, onto Robin's face and torso and legs…

He smiled; sometimes the simplest things in life were the most beautiful.

He had another wander around the church, this time aided by the coloured light rather than the candles, scavenging underneath and behind the broken wooden benches to see if there were any remnants of newspaper or anything that might help him a little more, build up his mental information archive…

Of course, Terra had proved invaluable, not only being able to tell him what had happened during those fifteen years, but filling him in on all the insider information, everything about Bruce, Batman's Titans, Slade…

_Nightwing_…

He couldn't find anything and was quite disappointed. But then, Terra probably would have cleared everything away; newspapers would rot in this damp, cold environment. Maybe she had burned them as fuel for her fire.

He absently twisted his necklace around his finger as he stood in the middle of the church, watching his breath rise on the icy air. His attention drifted to the altar, his masked eyes settling on the painting of the Virgin Mary. Then his awareness slid once more, moving to the steps leading up the organ balcony.

Nightwing had gone up there, right?

He made for them, climbing slowly up them as they twisted in corkscrew-like architecture, and aware that they were not as strong as they had probably once been; indeed, they even creaked beneath _his_ feet, and he was _not_ heavy.

The balcony seemed surprisingly untouched, if thick with dust and grime. The organ was still standing there, large and impressive, with at least fourteen layers of dust on the top wooden cover protecting the chord-strings. He started to run his finger along it, actually feeling how thick the dust was, when something made him stop.

A handprint, imprinted into dust already there, then covered with more layers.

Nightwing's?

It had been there years, obviously, but how many? His older-self had died three years ago; he couldn't tell how long the print had been there.

He placed his hand on the print, unsettling the dust, spreading his fingers so that it matched exactly.

Perfect.

The handprint was bigger than his own hand, obviously, but the placing of the fingers and thumb matched up exactly. It was definitely Nightwing's handprint.

It felt so strange to be standing there, his hand on top of the larger print of his future-self's, the dead man known as Nightwing.

He removed his hand, then made another print beside it, his fingers in exactly the same position. It was much smaller, but it was the same hand.

He was intrigued now, wondering if his dead future-self had left any other little remnants behind. He moved closer to the organ… and felt his foot connect with something. It clattered and slid underneath the organ. There was a startled squeak and a rat scurried out from underneath the organ and shot off across the balcony, where he lost sight of it.

But the _rat_ wasn't what he had accidentally kicked; it had sounded… _metal_…

Robin got down onto his hands and knees on the filthy floor and put his face level with the gap under the organ. No good – it was too dark. Grimacing, he slid one hand underneath the organ, rooting around. He unsettled a menagerie of spiders and earwigs and woodlice and centipedes – among other things – then sharply withdrew his hand he touched something cold and slimy.

_Okay, I don't want to know what **that** was…_

He wouldn't have minded so much if he had been wearing his gloves, but with his bare hands…

His curiosity concerning whatever he had kicked was overwhelming, and he delved his hand back under again, praying that he didn't come into contact with the cold slimy thing – _whatever_ it was – again. This time he was lucky, and his hand closed around something cold and sharp. He dragged it out and wiped it clean on his sweater – it _was_ his, really.

Frowning, he turned the object over in his hands. It was definitely metal, cold and heavy in his hands, but light enough to… _throw_… It was a long black tube with what looked like a bird's head at the end, and two long blue things came down on each side.

_What the hell is this?..._

He shook it… then dropped it in shock as the two blue strips of metal ratcheted out to horizontal positions; they were _wings_… And they were sharp, like his birdarangs…

_Duh_…

This _was_ a birdarang – well, _Nightwing's_ equivalent. Only it looked as though it packed more of a punch…

_So what do you call **this**; a Nightwing-a-rang?..._

He knelt there, toying with it absently, the feeling washing over him alien. This wasn't as though he was finding something that had been his dead father's; it was something that had belonged to _himself_.

But not a younger-self. His future one. This wasn't a scribbled-in baby book, or a Haley's Circus leotard. This was something that, in _this_ time, was from the _past_, but in his _own_ time, was an object of some twelve years into the future.

He stood up, still struggling to get his head around it, and placed it, for the time being, on top of the organ, next to his own handprint. He wondered whether the actual organ still worked, so decided to find out by pushing up the lid to the keys. A cloud of dust rose with it and Robin started to cough as he secured the lid against the wooden panel of the organ.

Before him sprawled two layers of keys, one above the other, set slightly back. He didn't have a clue how to play an organ but couldn't resist pressing down one of the keys. It made a sad, haunting note, which echoed throughout the empty, broken church. He had expected it to be louder, though, considering the tall brass organ-pipes stretching up behind it; they were supposed to carry the sound far further, and make it louder.

He pressed down another few keys, liking the melancholic sound they created…

"This is exactly where I found Nightwing."

Robin jumped, Terra taking him by surprise. He turned to her and grinned mildly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "I found some evidence." He thumbed towards the handprint and Terra smiled.

"Yes, I remember him doing that," she established. "He was complaining about how dusty it was. I never wiped it off; it's like a memory, you know?..."

Robin nodded in understanding, picking up his other find. Terra took it from him, wide-eyed.

"Where did you find this?" She whispered.

"Under the organ. _I_… I mean, _Nightwing_, must have dropped it and forgotten about it." Robin scratched his sleep-tousled hair, frowning. "I also found a rat under there, among other things. Did you know there are rats in here?"

"You should have caught it; we could have had it for breakfast."

"You eat _rats?_" Robin stared at her, half-horrified and half-disgusted.

Terra grinned.

"Oh, yeah, they're a good source of protein. Didn't you know that?"

She cracked up at the expression on his face.

"_Kidding_, Robin!" She giggled. "Jeez, I forgot how gullible you could be sometimes. Roy used to have poor Dick _tortured_ with practical jokes…"

Robin snorted in contempt and Terra sighed.

"Can you play?" She asked, changing the subject and nodding at the organ behind him.

Robin shook his head.

"Can _you?_"

"A little. I taught myself just sitting around in here for like, _ten_ years…" She handed him back Nightwing's weapon and pulled out an organ stool from beneath the organ. She dusted it down, the resulting cloud of dust making Robin cough again, and sat on it, pushing the cascade of blonde hair back from her face – enabling him, for the first time, to see both of her large, forget-me-not blue eyes.

"What can you play?" Robin inquired, coming up behind her.

"Oh, lots of different stuff," Terra replied airily. "Not all of it sounds very good on an organ, though."

"Well, what _does?_"

Terra thought for a moment.

"You ever heard of Dire Straits?"

Robin nodded.

"Yeah. Bruce has, like, every single one of their albums. His favourite is _Brothers in Arms_."

Terra was nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that's one of the ones I can play." She frowned, trying to get the tune into her head. "Let's see, _Brothers in Arms_… see, most of Dire Straits' songs sound really good on an organ, because they were originally _played_ on an organ, with the guitar back-ups. Unfortunately, nobody was kind enough to leave a Fender Stratocaster lying around in here, so I have to make do without…"

Robin nodded again as Terra began to play the main chords of _Brothers in Arms_.

"Why is the organ so quiet?" He asked.

Terra nodded up at the organ-pipes, still playing.

"It's not connected up to those anymore," she explained, "so the sound doesn't carry."

She shifted over a bit so that he could perch on the stool next to her. Despite not being connected up the sound still filled the whole church, breathing life into it, the sound sad and beautiful and poignant.

Terra shifted into the bars, beginning to sing the lyrics, and her voice was soft and sad too, so much that it almost made Robin cry.

_Almost_.

"…_There's so many different worlds,_

_So many different suns;_

_We have just one world_

_But we live in different ones…"_

Terra trailed off in her singing, still playing the crescendo that came after that part of the song.

"Do you know it?"

Robin nodded.

"Just to listen to. I don't know the words." He nodded at the organ. "Keep going; I know there's another verse…"

Terra smiled as the key dipped lower and became calmer again;

"…_Now the sun's gone to Hell,_

_And the moon's riding high;_

_Let me bid you farewell— _

_Every man has to die._

_But it's written in the starlight_

_And every line in your palm;_

_We're fools to make war_

_On our brothers in arms…"_

Again her singing faded into the grasp of the moody organ music that receded it, and Robin smiled as he listened to her playing. It brought back memories of cold, dark winter nights in Gotham, when Bruce would light up the fire and put on a Dire Straits album, loud, to help him unwind. If he was in one of his rare, exceptionally-good moods, he would have snatched Robin up off the couch – where said Boy Wonder was happily absorbed in a book – and made him dance with him, leaping up and down the huge front room to the jaunty, surprisingly-cheerful-for-Dire-Straits _Walk of Life_ or _Money for Nothing_, both of which were on the _Brothers in Arms _album; Alfred had often sniffily labelled this lack of decorum as "energized, Wayne-style cavorting". But the title track had always been Bruce's favourite, and it was _far_ from jaunty. It was sad and beautiful and moody, with compelling lyrics.

Just the kind of song Bruce liked.

Terra played the repetitive few bars, ascending into the peak of the tune concerning the organ, then died off and stopped playing altogether.

"It's a bit boring after that," she explained, taking her hands off the keys.

Robin simply nodded wordlessly, and there was silence between, the music – now dead – still washing around them like the sea on the shore.

Finally Terra broke it;

"C'mon, mister," she said breezily, standing up. "Let's get some breakfast, and then we'll fix you up with some clothes. We've got a busy day ahead of us."

Robin blinked.

"We have?"

"Uh-huh," Terra replied, nodding. "We're going to go and see our own "Brothers in Arms"…"

Robin's masked eyes widened.

"What, you mean…?"

Again Terra nodded.

"Right. We're going to go see Bruce after breakfast; here's hoping he's having a "good" day. And then we'll go for a wander around Gotham, if you want, so you can see just how much of a hell-hole this place has become. And then, later tonight, we'll go see Roy at his club. It doesn't open until 8:00pm, so…"

Robin nodded, frowning.

"Ok, sounds fun," he answered, sort of meaning it. "But… what am I going to do about getting home? I… I can't stay here in the future forever, Terra…"

Terra grinned.

"Yeah, I know. That's why we're going to see Roy."

Robin cocked his head.

"What, does Speedy know how to fix clocks?"

Terra smirked.

"Well, he won't admit it, in case it ruins his street cred, but yeah."

Robin smiled, shaking his head; yeah, that sounded just like Speedy…

He followed Terra back down through the church and into the back room, where she had already started up a fire. She handed him a cup of coffee while she sorted out the rest of the breakfast.

"You're in luck," she said brightly from where she was rummaging through a cardboard box a few feet away from the fire. "I only saw Roy yesterday, concerning food orders. Most of this stuff is fresh." She held up a bag of flour, an egg and another bag of sugar. "Pancakes okay with you?"

Robin nodded, smiling.

"You know, you don't act a bit like… well, what you'd expect a hermit living in an abandoned church to act like," he concurred. "I mean, you'd think you'd be living off… _tinned spam_ or something, or _rats_, like you said. But here you are, making pancakes and coffee, like it's just… _normal_…"

"It _is_ normal, Robin," Terra replied mildly, oiling up the frying pan she had dug out from beneath a pile of black clothes. "It took some getting used to, I can tell you that, but after living like this for ten years… well, it _does_ become pretty normal. It's a long way off from Titans Tower, but hey… it's _home_, I guess."

Robin nodded in understanding. But then, did he _really_ understand?... He'd never lived in one place for ten years; ten years ago he had been six, living in a circus trailer with his parents. Two years on from that, and suddenly he was an orphan getting beat up in Gotham's Youth Centre, and then forced to pray six times a day at St Jude's. And then… Wayne Manor? Yes, six happy years living with Bruce and Alfred as millionaire Bruce Wayne's heir and as Batman's crime-fighting sidekick. And the past two years had been spent in Titans Tower living/having fun/fighting with his friends.

Eight years – five different dwellings.

So he didn't _truly_ understand; but he understood what she _meant_.

"Besides," Terra went on, finding a bowl and beginning to blend up the pancake mixture, "I guess it's just because of the people I know that I'm _not_ eating rats and tinned spam. Roy gets food for me and Bruce; and Bruce, on one of his "good" days, gave me all this essential stuff. You know, frying pans and plates and knives and towels and things, all stuff salvaged from parts of Wayne Manor that hadn't burned to the ground. He gave Roy some too. We all look out for each other, you know? I took Bruce his food yesterday."

"How was he?" Robin asked quietly.

Terra bit her lip.

"Not good. He didn't recognise me at first, so I had to calm him down and talk to him. I think he finally acknowledged that he knew me, but he was still a bit twitchy." She sighed heavily. "He's in a bad way, Robin, but there isn't anything we can do for him. _Harley_ might have been able to help him, her being a psychologist and all, but Bruce didn't totally screw up until he watched Dick get shot – that was _years_ after Harley died. Besides, Bruce doesn't really have an actual mental problem; I mean, I actually think his brain is in pretty good shape, 'cause if he's on a good day he's smart as anyone and he acts totally normal. It's just… I don't think it was his _mind_ that drove him to insanity; it was a broken heart. He'd watched so many of the ones he loved die; his parents, Alfred, Clark, Barbara, Tim, Harvey, Talia, Selina… and then Dick. He couldn't handle it…"

She sighed again, looking up at Robin.

"I'm… just telling you this, okay, in case… well, he's not so good today _either_. If he doesn't recognise you, don't be upset. It's not his fault."

Robin nodded, feeling his stomach tying itself into a knot.

"And… even if he _does_ recognise you," Terra went on carefully, "just watch what you say to him. He's seriously unstable; _dangerous_, even. You say the wrong thing and he completely flies off the handle, has tantrums, the works. But Bruce… well, his tantrums aren't like a little kid's. He throws things and smashes things, and he's big and strong and stuff… well, _you'd_ know better than anyone, I guess…"

"Has he ever hurt _you?_" Robin whispered.

Terra seemed to take her time answering that.

"No," she answered finally, "but that's only because I've never _let_ him. He's tried to before, in one of his mad, blinding rages, but if it starts getting a bit… well, I just knock him out and leave him. He's hurt _Roy_, though. He wasn't on a "good" day, mind. I don't know _what_ he thought Roy _was_, but he jumped on him and started beating his brains out; I had to knock him off with a _boulder_. Left Roy a bit bloodied up, _and_ he snapped his wrist. But the thing is… it wasn't really intentional. That's the part we have to keep remembering, and that's the part that _hurts_ the most…"

Again Robin nodded, feeling like crying. But somehow, the thought that Bruce was mad… made him want to see his ex-mentor more than ever.

He sat cross-legged on the icy floor, sipping his coffee as he watched Terra quickly and deftly make a batch of proper fried pancakes, flipping them effortlessly onto a plate and sprinkling them with sugar.

"Here you are," she beamed at him, pushing the plate towards him. "Dig in."

Robin eagerly complied, savouring every mouthful, while Terra made up another round for herself, utterly drowning hers in sugar.

"Syrup substitute," she said, grinning guiltily as he stared at her plate; it was more sugar with pancakes than pancakes with sugar. "Nothing like something sweet to get you going in the morning, right?"

Robin wrinkled his nose, not sure how to answer that – he was more for a shock of caffeine, something bitter, to get him going.

Coffee, in other words.

They finished breakfast to a repertoire of jokes from Terra – but unlike Beast Boy's, they were actually funny.

"Okay, you go wash up," Terra told him after they were finished – and after she had finished smacking Robin on the back to stop him from choking with laughter on his pancake. She pointed across the room to the "wash basin" and Robin drained the rest of his coffee before getting up and heading that way.

She'd already filled it with lukewarm water so he washed up, feeling much fresher for it, and then turned to find her with a fluffy towel in one hand for him to dry his face and hands with, and a brand new blue toothbrush, straight out of the packet.

"Here you go," she trilled, pushing them at him. "Bruce gave me something like fifty toothbrushes, for some strange reason, so knock yourself out. Toothpaste is on the floor behind the basin."

She sailed off again, leaving him to finish up. When he was done he went back over to his "bed" and sat down on it, picking up the broken Clock of Eternity while he waited for Terra.

Eventually she returned, fully dressed and carrying an armful of black garments. Robin looked up at her and blinked.

Today her cascade of gold hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, with one single part left out at the front that still covered her eye, and she wore tight black leather trousers reminiscent of Seth Elliott's, black leather calf-length heavy biker boots, a tiny black strappy top edged with lace and a tight-fitting black leather biker jacket, which was unzipped and hanging open.

_Okay, giving off a real "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" vibe there… _

She looked great; she truly did. She also looked as though she was out to kill something – or _someone_.

Which she probably _was_.

"Okay, quit staring at me, you," Terra said flatly, reaching down and hauling him to his feet by the collar of his fleecy sweater. She bundled the clothes she was carrying into his arms.

"Go try these," she ordered. "I think they should fit you, and it all matches up. As for shoes, those other ones from your uniform should be okay." She nodded down at his feet, seeing as he was already wearing his heavy steel-soled boots.

She packed him off to his designated corner again as she had last night, while she went about clearing up and making the beds.

Robin unfolded the clothes she had flung at him, eyeing them sceptically. Leather pants that looked at least three sizes too small for him, a tight-fitting black Lycra t-shirt with a high neck and very short sleeves, black leather gloves, a thick black leather belt with pouches and sheathes on it very like Slade's, and brand new black leather bomber jacket.

Spandex was one thing – it was very tight, but it stretched, meaning it wasn't too difficult to get on.

_Somebody pass the crowbar…_

It actually wasn't as difficult as he had anticipated. He had been a bit worried about the pants but it seemed that they were in fact quite a bit bigger than they looked and hadn't caused him very much trouble at all. But while he could fit into them okay, they were still very, very tight and he found that he couldn't breathe as well as he could in spandex.

_And now I probably look gay too; joy…_

He made a mental note to steer clear of the many gay bars he had seen on his travels last night as he tugged off the nice loose sweater and replaced it with the Lycra t-shirt. He could breathe okay, which was a plus, but the sleeves hugged his upper arms, chest and stomach where his "R" shirt didn't, which made him feel a little uncomfortable. He put on the belt and buckled it, finding that it was too loose even at the last hole and slipped a little way past his waist, then pulled on the leather gloves.

_Okay, that's my circulation cut off entirely; what next?..._

Next came the boots, which he pulled back on over the leather trousers; then he grabbed the jacket and tugged that on too, zipping it up halfway so that a lot of his high-necked t-shirt was still visible. Lastly he threaded the Blood Diamond back around his neck, where it glittered valiantly against his black t-shirt, and fixed his mask so that it was perfectly straight on his face.

_Okay, I can barely breathe and my circulation has definitely slowed down, but I look good, right?..._

He staggered out from his corner and crossed the room to where Terra was waiting, her arms folded.

"Ah, bon même!" She cried rapturously in a very bad French accent, clapping her hands together as she ran her gaze over him. "Very nice," she translated when he looked blankly at her.

"Yeah, if "Gay Poster Boy" was the look we were hoping to achieve here," Robin replied bitterly, still very much aware of how tight those leather trousers were, and of the fact that they showed off his ass even better than green spandex did. "Yes, I'm sure "some people" would think it's "very nice" indeed…"

"Oh, don't be stupid," Terra snapped impatiently. "You don't look gay at all; you look fine. It suits you."

"Thanks."

"That was meant in a _good_ way."

"Define "good."

"Oh, shut up…"

Robin smiled twistedly and walked past her to where she had neatly folded his uniform beside his newly-made "bed". He picked up his utility belt and rifled through it, taking his staff, two birdarangs and the knife from it and putting them into the leather sheathes on the belt now at his waist.

As he flung the belt back he did a double-take on noticing the bed – Terra had changed the pillow and sheets.

"You…" He said, turning back to her. "My pillow…?"

"Yeah." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Nosebleed?"

"It's…" Robin looked at the floor. "It's kinda difficult to explain…"

"Right." Terra didn't pursue the matter, thinking it to be embarrassing or private; when the truth was that he really and honestly just _couldn't_ explain it. "Just don't make a habit of it. I'm not exactly _swimming_ in bedsheets and pillowcases…"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sure you didn't make yourself bleed on purpose just to piss me off." She eyed him charily. "Or _did_ you?…"

"Um, no." Robin blinked at her. "_So_… what next?"

Terra smiled weakly in reply.

"Next… we go see a certain Mr Wayne…"

* * *

Yes, bearing in mind that this fic _does_ share a readership with the likes of _Small Print _(and additional slashy things I have written/co-written with Narroch)… You can forget any kind of slash-type "hanky panky" in this storyline where Robin is concerned. This isn't _Small Print_ Robin – the Robin in _this_ storyline was deeply traumatised by the rape Slade inflicted on him and as a result is something of a homophobe. I have been asked that before, certainly, in reviews; and I have answered that before.

_I_ am not a homophobe – and in a _lot_ of my other fics, neither is Robin. So don't think I have anything against it, because I don't.

But Robin _is_ a homophobe in this – because of what happened to him – and he is perfectly justified in being so, so don't complain about it in a review. That's all I want to say on this rather obvious matter.

Dire Straits – an excellent band, one of my favourites. Anyone ever heard _Brothers in Arms_? It's very good – and it always reminds me of Terra anyway because the first time I ever heard it, about two years ago (around this time of year, too), I was drawing a picture of Terra. More importantly, my first ever proper picture of her. Ah, such memories… But I guess that's kind of why it worked its way in here. It's a song I associate with her.

Well, that's all for now. Next chapter: Robin and Terra drop in on Bruce.

Just as a heads-up… He is _not_ on a good day.

Happy New Year!

RobinRocks xXx


	13. Vengeance for the Bat

Okay, ZOMG… I know, I know – it's been ages since I've updated, I've been sooooooooo lazy…

Sorry guys!

Let's crack straight on with it;

Thankyou to: **LoopyLouise123, YamiTai, Me, Flying02Fish, TheFallenAngel67, Athena's Wings, Raven Victoria Grayson, Guardian of Azarath, TheLoneWolf8986, Poison's Ivy, Simmie, Rosalina, Narroch, Crazy Insomniac, Kami Elf, **and** Quinn and His Quill, **wherever you are…

I'm not answering any questions today because I'm mean. So there.

_Thankyouuu_ for all the reviews. I had like 15… It's slowly creeping back up again… :)

I know, I'm just pretty much just chucking it at you today. I'm really sorry… I promise better ANs next time. On the other hand, it must be refreshing for you all not to have to plough (UK spelling!) through an entire essay's-worth of thankyou notes…

This chapter… Crazy!Batman…

Vengeance for the Bat

"Okay, Robin; you can let go now…"

Robin reluctantly opened his eyes – which were squeezed tightly shut – and dared to let his breath out. He kept him arms wrapped firmly around Terra's waist, however, as least until he was one hundred percent _sure_ that the boulder on which they were riding had completely stopped. She had taken to riding at speeds in excess of 80mph through the sky on one of her self-made rocky air-boards, and while _she_ seemed quiet comfortable standing upright, Robin was on his knees, his masked eyes scrunched shut against the wind and the chips of rock flying off, and his arms clinging grim-death to Terra's waist. Not that he was afraid of heights, or of speed, because he most certainly _wasn't_, but _this_… well, he wasn't used to _this_.

"We've stopped?"

"Yes."

Terra sounded impatient, and Robin quickly unwound his arms from her waist and looked down. The rocky platform was hovering a few feet from the wrecked grounds of Wayne Manor, and Robin slipped off and landed lightly on the ground among the burnt debris. A few seconds later Terra joined him, setting their means of transport down.

"I've already seen it," Robin whispered as he cast his eyes over the wreckage, the frame-work barely standing, burnt and disjointed… "But it's still a shock; it still hurts…"

"I know."

Terra placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him reassuringly.

"It's okay… if you don't want to do this…" she said softly. "We can just go straight to Gotham if you'd prefer…"

"No." Robin shook his head firmly. "No, I want to see him, Terra. I _have_ to…"

"Okay, but…" Terra sighed deeply. "Just remember, Robin… this isn't _your_ Bruce. He's…"

"I know," Robin finished expressionlessly. "He's mad."

"Well, just don't get upset, okay?"

"I won't."

Terra bowed her blonde head and walked ahead, motioning for him to follow. He complied and she led him across the demolished ground to a part of the manor that still standing, if precariously. He could see where she had cleared a pathway through the rubble from the many times she had been here before and he allowed her to lead him through a maze of parts of the broken mansion scattered through the still-standing East Wing. Burnt furniture, smashed glass, broken ornaments, torn paintings and photographs, all partially buried beneath years of dirt and reminisces of the weather that had befallen it; mould from the rain and snow, and fading from the sun.

Further in it became completely dark, the rotten floorboards creaking underfoot, slitherings of things unknown, and a distinctive fluttering of tiny, leathery wings – bats. It was so dark Robin couldn't even see where he was going, only following the sound of Terra's footsteps, and even then this navigation wasn't entirely reliable – it wasn't until he had tripped and landed flat on his face a third time that Terra reached back and took hold of his hand, leading him properly.

But it was little comfort to him; it had now become a scary game of "Follow the Leader". Wayne Manor was no longer a known, inviting place to him. It was little more than a graveyard, a memory of things that could never be again, just like Titans Tower. And in the darkness, Terra simply led him on, around obstacles that he could not even see, on to something that he wasn't sure he even wanted.

For it was not the darkness he was afraid of – it was what waited at the end of it.

Eventually, deep within the bowels of the broken mansion, he saw light.

"Almost there," Terra whispered, still clutching his leather-gloved hand. He nodded even though she could not see him as they came to an archway, the entrance to a stairwell carved into rock.

The entrance via the Grandfather Clock. Only… said clock had been torn aside; in the dim light coming up from the BatCave below, Robin could see the clock lying a few feet away, smashed and rotted.

Before he could change his mind, Terra squeezed his hand tighter and led him down the steps, even though her leadership was no longer really required. He knew where he was now, and as they descended further down the twisting staircase, deeper and deeper underground into the natural cave beneath Wayne Manor that Bruce had transformed into his lair, he could recognise nearly every crack in the wall.

And, yes… the trophies were still standing, lording it up high above; the giant robot Tyrannosaurus Rex, the monstrous two-headed coin, the oversized Joker card…

He tried to break away from Terra as they reached the bottom step and came into the BatCave itself. He could see Bruce sitting across the other side, facing the computer, and felt the urge to leave Terra behind and simply run to him, to tell him everything, to be encompassed in his mentor's strong grip…

"Robin, _no_," Terra reprimanded him sharply, pulling him backwards as though he was a disobedient toddler reaching for the most expensive and breakable thing in the store. "Don't just run at him. I don't know what kind of mood he's in…"

She held his hand very tightly indeed as she strode up the length of the BatCave, leaving him slightly miffed. This was, after all, _his_ territory; in _his_ time, Terra had never even _met_ Bruce Wayne, _or_ Batman…

He grudgingly allowed her to half-drag him towards Bruce, looking around at the BatCave. It had definitely been in better condition fifteen years ago – as far as caves went, anyway – and in the absence of Alfred the dust that had accumulated on every surface imaginable was as thick as that on top of the organ in the cathedral. Four glass cases lined one wall, and…

Robin frowned.

_Four?..._

There should have been _one_, certainly, the one housing his older uniform, with the yellow cape and shorty-pants and the pixie boots. But _four?_ Again he tried to pull away from Terra, and again she gripped him tighter to prevent him from achieving it.

_Fine_…

He simply lagged behind her so that he could get a better look. He could see his own costume, the younger version, which had been there for seventeen years and counting in _this_ time, and next to it…

He blinked.

Another Robin costume, but not his own. This one was red and black, with a high-necked yellow and black cape similar to the one on his current uniform. Beneath the case was a bronze plaque, which he just managed to read before Terra dragged him past it;

ROBIN

TIMOTHY DRAKE

The _other_ Robin; now he understood. The next case held another uniform, similar to Batman's, but more refined, stylized… _feminine_, with the Bat insignia yellow on black, instead of vice versa.

BATGIRL

BARBARA GORDON

Of course; Tim and Barbara had not been buried in their uniforms, so Bruce had kept them as memorials… no, wait, that didn't work. Tim had been… well, had gone the same way as Robin's – Dick Grayson's – own parents, yet the costume in the case was in pristine condition. Likewise, Barbara's body, after her death at the hand of the Joker, had never been found. So these ones must be spares, or extras Bruce had had made up, to be put into the cases as memorial tokens.

Feeling a vague sense of excitement, he turned his attention to the last case as Terra pulled him past it. Yes, there it was, the same blue and black skin-tight costume worn by the cartoon in Starfire's scrapbook, the hawk spread across the chest, wings outstretched, dull silver utility belt hanging at the waist, similarly-coloured gauntlets adorning each black leather glove…

NIGHTWING

DICK GRAYSON

Not his full title, unlike "Timothy Drake" or "Barbara Gordon" instead of "Tim" and "Babs"; not "Richard John Grayson".

Just "Dick".

He smiled.

Next to Nightwing's case was one more glass case, this one set upon a marble pedestal; it was very small, rectangular in shape, and within, laid upon a purple velvet cushion, was a feather duster.

ALFRED PENNYWORTH

NOT EVERY HERO WEARS A MASK

That made him smile even more.

And a little further along again, although it was not in a case, was a crimson cape nailed to the rocky, uneven wall of the BatCave – Superman's. A metaphoric ode to Bruce's – although he would certainly never admit it – best friend.

This time he positively _smirked_.

"Bruce?" Terra asked softly, stopping a few feet short of the huge leather chair facing the computer.

No answer.

Robin could see the edges of the familiar scalloped cape draped over the edges of the chair – Bruce was in uniform.

"Bruce?" Terra tried again. "Bruce, I brought someone to see you…"

There was another painful silence and Robin felt his heart sink. But then, unexpectedly, Bruce suddenly spoke, although he did not turn around;

"I don't want to see them."

_Well, at least he doesn't think he's a bat. Well, a **real** one, at any rate…_

But, somehow, this was _worse_. Perhaps he would _rather_ Bruce was flapping around screeching ear-piercingly, because now he sounded so… _cold_.

_Distant_.

"You don't even know who it _is_," Terra said reproachfully, although she gave Robin's hand a quick, reassuring squeeze as she said it. "So how can you say you don't want to see them?"

"It's Roy."

"No, it isn't." She stepped back a little even as she spoke, and Robin knew why; he too could almost sense the danger, the blackness of Bruce's mood.

"Bruce-" He started desperately, but was cut off as Terra slapped a hand over his mouth.

"_Don't make this worse_," she hissed at him.

But Bruce turned at the sound of his voice, swinging the tall leather armchair around – he was in his Batman uniform, but the cowl was down.

It was still Bruce – he had not changed as dramatically as Terra had, but he had certainly changed. His face was lined, but it was not with age, for even fifteen years on Bruce would only be in his mid-forties. His black hair now showed streaks of grey at the temples, however, and it was messy, stray strands falling across his forehead. His grey eyes seemed harder and colder than ever before, and his firm mouth looked as though it hadn't smiled in years. The uniform was torn, patched with scraps of grey material that almost-but-didn't-quite match, the scalloped edges of the cape were ripped and ragged. At the foot of the chair rested a heavy walking stick, shining black mahogany with a silver handle.

_Walking stick?..._

But surely, residing in the BatCave, Bruce would have no use for such a crude weapon, not when he had so many others at his fingertips?…

There Bruce Wayne sat, the Batman of Gotham City, nestled deep within his own habitat – a dark, damp, bat-infested cave metres below the ground.

And he did _not_ look pleased to see either of his visitors.

"Bruce…" Terra's voice was soft and careful as she addressed the former-billionaire. "You… you recognise me, don't you?

"Yes," Bruce replied monotonely, regarding her icily. "Thankyou for bringing the food yesterday, even though I do not remember you doing so."

"You weren't in one of your… _better_ moods yesterday, Bruce."

Bruce smiled thinly, but the expression in his eyes betrayed the action. His steely gaze moved to Robin and he frowned at him.

"Why did you bring this boy?" He asked frostily, pointing one accusing gloved finger at his former-ward.

"_This boy_ is the person I brought to see you," Terra said cautiously. "Don't you recognise him?"

Bruce studied Robin for a second or two, his grey eyes narrowed, and Robin felt Terra clutching his hand tightly, maybe in fear of what Bruce's reaction would be; _he_ was certainly quivering slightly.

"No," Bruce decided finally, his tone clipped. He leaned back in his chair and began to rock it back and forwards slightly, his gaze fixed on Robin and his eyes narrowed still in certain dislike. "No, I don't. Should I? _Should_ I recognise him, Terra? Because I _don't_."

Robin could actually _hear_ the madness in his voice, the incoherent rambling of his tone, the way he strung words together as though he couldn't really make any sense of them. He might not have thought he was a bat today, but there was absolutely no doubt about it – Bruce Wayne was nuttier than a fruit cake.

Except that, unlike a pretty-much harmless fruit cake, Bruce was dangerous and unstable with it.

"I don't recognise him," Bruce repeated, leaning forwards in his leather chair. He repeated it a few more times, more to himself, his voice hushed and breathless, as though trying to _convince_ himself.

"Yes you do, Bruce," Terra whispered, throwing a spanner into the works. "This is _Robin_."

Bruce blinked, putting his head to one side to study Robin in a new light. Eventually he shook his head.

"No, that's not Robin," he said, shaking his head. "A robin is a _bird_."

Terra sighed, and Robin got the feeling that she was subjected to this very often.

"No, _Robin_," she accentuated. "As in the _name_. Like… _Robin Hood_. This is your _partner_ Robin. Do you remember him, Bruce?"

"Might be a good idea to mention the whole time-travel thing," Robin muttered, leaning in to her.

Terra shook her head.

"Let's not confuse him," she whispered in reply. "At least not for the moment…"

"What are you whispering about?" Bruce demanded, raising his head sharply. "Why are you whispering? Tell me why you're whispering!"

"We're _not_ whispering, Bruce," Terra said calmly, putting her hands up as though in surrender. "It's okay, take it easy. We're here to talk to _you_."

Bruce rocked back in his chair again, his narrowed gaze moving from Robin to Terra and then back again.

Silence.

"I don't recognise him," Bruce said again, breaking the silence.

He regarded the pair of them for a second or two longer, and then abruptly swung his leather chair back around to face the computer.

"_Bruce!_" Terra snapped.

Bruce ignored the pair of them, starting to tap keys on the Bat-computer. Screens shifted across one another – surveillance monitors, just like the ones in Titans Tower. From _their_ database they could see practically everything that was going on in the city.

He felt Terra's grip on his hand loosen in her dejectedness, and prised it free.

"Robin!" She cried, but before she could catch hold of him he had darted out of reach over to Bruce's chair.

"Bruce, _please_," he pleaded, tugging on his fifteen-year-older ex-mentor's arm. "You _have_ to remember me!"

"I've never seen you before in my life," Bruce replied stonily, pulling his glove from this seemingly-unknown teenaged boy's grip.

"Yes you _have!_" Robin pressed desperately. "I'm your first ward, and your first sidekick!"

Bruce did not even bother to answer this time.

"Robin, come on," Terra told him softly, coming to his side. "He doesn't recognise you. Let's go…"

"_No!_" Robin ducked out of her reach again and shook Bruce's broad shoulder beneath the torn black cape.

"Grayson!" He burst out, desperate for his ex-guardian to recognise him. "_Dick Grayson!_ That's _me_, remember, the circus acrobat? The kid who had to watch his parents fall fifty feet to the ring floor? And you caught the guy that did it, Boss Zucco, remember?..."

Bruce seemed to freeze up in Robin's grip, and the Boy Wonder trailed off uncertainly.

"Bruce?" He asked quietly. "Do you remember me now?..."

Bruce swung his chair around again, rising from it in one fluid, powerful motion, so fast that Robin couldn't follow it. He didn't even realise that Bruce had grabbed him by the throat until the man had hauled him four feet clear from the floor, holding him by the neck high above his head.

"_Don't ever say that name_," Bruce hissed lethally.

Robin couldn't answer him, struggling with Bruce's powerful fingers as they cut off his air supply.

"Bruce, stop it!" Terra shrieked, lunging forwards; Bruce ignored her, instead shaking the boy he was brutally yet effortlessly strangling.

"DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT NAME!" Bruce roared, tightening his grip and shaking the boy even more. "HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT NAME; HOW _DARE_ YOU CLAIM TO BE DICK! DICK IS_ DEAD!_"

"Bruce, let him go!" Terra screamed, wrenching at Bruce's powerful arm. "You're going to kill him!"

Bruce threw Robin aside as hard as he could; the Boy Wonder slammed against the wall and slid down, landing in a crumpled heap. Terra started towards him, but was wrenched backwards by Bruce as he grabbed hold of her arm. Enraged, Terra whipped back around, her eyes blazing gold. A large boulder dislodged itself from the far wall and careered right into the Dark Knight, sending him sprawling against the control panel of the computer; he too slid down, ending up slumped against the panel.

Terra ignored him, instead running to Robin and putting one of his arms over her shoulders, hauling him to his feet.

"You okay?" She asked quietly, fixing her gaze back on Bruce.

"Yeah…" Robin tried to straighten himself up, rubbing his throat. He too turned his gaze to Bruce, who was simply sitting against the panel frowning up at the pair of them.

"Dick," he said finally, his tone soft. His gaze was directed at Robin, but he no longer looked as though he wanted to kill him. On the contrary, he raised his arms and spread them out, as though he was trying to hug something that wasn't there.

An invitation.

"_Dick_," he repeated imploringly, wriggling his long black-gloved fingers. "Come here."

Robin looked at Terra for assertion. She seemed to think about it for a while.

"Alright, just… just be _careful_ of him, okay? You just _saw_ what he's like…"

Robin nodded as she let go of him and he cautiously went over to his ex-guardian. He knelt down next to him, and was slightly taken aback when Bruce greedily gathered him into his arms like a little boy coveting a new pet kitten. So there he was, uncomfortably trapped between Bruce's strong arms and broad chest, and indeed, Bruce did seem to be treating him as though he thought he was some kind of pet, stroking his jet black hair but roughly, combing his slightly-pointed fingers through it.

But Bruce's personality had certainly lobotomised in that last minute or so, no longer angry or savage; instead he seemed to accept that the boy clutched tightly to his chest – the same boy he had been strangling only a few minutes before – was indeed Dick Grayson and was now treating him with utmost love and care, instead of attempting to throttle him.

"I've missed you so much," Bruce murmured into his ebony hair. "_So much_… you went away, you've been gone too long, _far too long_…" Bruce gripped him tighter as he talked, addressing himself more than his ex-ward, even though he was not really making any sense. "You went away but now you've come back, you have to stay here now, forever… Promise you won't go away again…"

Robin said nothing; how could he promise when Terra was taking him to see Speedy tonight, the sole purpose of which was to get the Clock of Eternity fixed so that he could go home?...

Bruce didn't seem to notice; Robin could have been _dead_ in his arms and he wouldn't have noticed.

"You are a ghost," Bruce murmured, hugging him tighter, pulling his knees right up so that Robin was pretty much caged, unable to pull away from him; although it was comforting to be in Bruce's arms, Robin could only wonder how long his ex-mentor was going to keep him there.

"You are an angel," Bruce went on, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"No, I'm-" Robin was cut off as Bruce pushed his face against his powerful chest, muffling his words against the yellow Bat motif. Robin tried to push away again to finish his sentence – and _breathe_, more importantly – but Bruce was holding him there now. Maybe he thought he was being comforting, but in actual fact he was suffocating his ex-sidekick.

"Bruce, you're _hurting_ him," Terra said sharply from where she stood watching with her arms folded.

Bruce frowned, then looked down at Robin writhing in his grip. His eyes widened as though there was a snake in his arms rather than his own ex-sidekick and he let go as though the boy had burned him. He pushed Robin right off him, staggered to his feet and went back to his chair, which he sank into wordlessly.

Terra came to Robin and offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet; Robin's gaze, however, was fixed on Bruce.

The Dark Knight was simply sitting back at the Bat-computer, typing away as though absolutely nothing had happened. Robin started for him, but Terra grabbed his shoulders, preventing him from approaching the man.

"I think that's the best you're going to get," she whispered. "I… I'm _sorry_, Robin. I don't know what you were expecting…"

Robin shrugged dejectedly.

"I… I don't know what I was expecting either," he replied softly.

Terra put her arm around his shoulders and started to steer him out of the cave towards the staircase, giving him a sympathetic squeeze as she did so.

"Bye, Bruce!" She called over her shoulder.

No answer, only the tapping of keys.

_And his grief for Nightwing did this to him_, Robin couldn't help thinking. _His grief for **me**…_

The journey back through the broken manor only seemed to take half the time it had before, and before long Robin found himself stepping out into the sun, murky through the now-permanent clouds of pollution above Gotham City. He walked right away from the part of the mansion that was still standing, stepping over broken, burnt furniture and shattered rubble. Terra seemed to sense that he wanted to be alone and so let him be for the best part of five minutes, but when he simply remained standing in the middle of the wreckage looking up at the sky she made her way over to him.

"You gonna be okay?" She asked him softly, stopping a few steps behind him.

After a few seconds' silence, Robin spoke;

"This is my fault, Terra."

He looked at the ground, strewn with half-buried debris, unfallen tears stinging his eyes.

"No." Terra put out a hand, placing it on his shoulder. "No, Robin. This isn't your fault, _none_ of it is. How _can_ it be? When everything happened in _this_ time, you were… in your _own_ time, what, _one_ year old?"

"No, not what happened here," Robin said softly. "I know that it isn't _my_ fault. Well, I shouldn't have let my team die, but I mean… it's _Slade's_ fault really, isn't it? What I mean is… Bruce's madness. _That's_ my fault."

"No," Terra said again, her voice firmer. "Robin, you can't blame yourself for what happened back there, and you can't really blame Bruce either. He's the victim of heartbreak after heartbreak, he can't _help_ it…"

"Exactly!" Robin cried, turning to face her. "Every death was another nail in the coffin, if you'll excuse the morbid analogy…"

"You're excused," Terra murmured sardonically.

"You said it yourself," Robin went on, ignoring her. "First his parents, then his best friend Clark – although he would never have _admitted_ that Clark was his best friend – then Alfred, then Barbara, then Tim, watching nearly every single one of his team die, and the Justice League before that… every death broke him up, way back to when he was like, _six_, when he watched his parents gunned down… But the thing that topped it off, the death that drove him completely over the edge… was _mine_."

"That's not your _fault_ though, Robin," Terra pressed. "You – or _Nightwing_, I should say – didn't deliberately die to make Bruce go crazy. Roy and I had no idea that it would affect him like this, either, but it _did_."

Terra moved her hand to his throat, touching him above the high neck of his Lycra t-shirt.

"Did he hurt you?" She asked him, moving right up to him and applying pressure to the brittle bones in his neck.

He winced and pushed her off.

"Just a little bit," he lied. "Nothing much." He paused, then touched his own throat; in truth he could already feel the bruises forming, imprints of Bruce's strong fingers.

"_I deserved it_," he convicted bitterly, still massaging his neck.

"No you _didn't_," Terra said dismissively, sounding extremely irritated. "He lost his temper again because you mentioned Dick's name-"

"It's _my_ name," Robin interrupted. "And I should have _known_ better; I should have kept my damn mouth _shut_, especially after you had told me _not_ to say anything about Nightwing or Alfred or Barbara or anyone. But… but I was just so desperate for him to _recognise_ me…"

His voice cracked slightly as he said it and Terra reached out and put her hand on his head, massaging his spikes in certain affection; perhaps an _old_ affection for Nightwing…

"Poor baby," she said softly, but she wasn't mocking him. Then her face broke into a wide, beautiful grin.

"I'd hug you," she said, giggling, "but considering your height, I think we'd better pass on it…"

Robin cocked his head in confusion, then saw what she was getting at; given that, at sixteen years old he was so much shorter than this thirty-one year old, model-physiqued Terra, his face was exactly level with her breasts.

"Maybe when you're taller, eh?" Terra went on, pushing him slightly.

He managed a watery smile; had he been in a better mood, he would have laughed.

"Aw, c'mon," Terra sighed, putting a cupped hand under his chin and lifting his head up. "Chin up, ok? We're gonna go see Roy so he can fix that old piece of junk for you so you can go home and prevent all of this from ever happening."

Robin cheered up a little at that, knowing she was right. Once he got back to his own time, he could prevent the Teen Titans from dying, the first in the chain of events that had led to this devastated future world. Once that had failed to happen, the other events would fail to happen too, because the chain would be broken, and history rewritten.

"So what's next on the agenda?" Robin asked as he and Terra started back through the wreckage of the Wayne Manor grounds.

"Oh, I think a tour of crappy… I mean, _picturesque_ Gotham City," Terra replied breezily. "There's still some stuff up and running, you know; it's not _quite_ like the _lovely_ Jump City, which is utterly _dead_…"

"I know," Robin replied blandly.

"I know that you know."

"Well, I know that _you_ know that _I_ know…"

They continued to argue in that ridiculous fashion until they reached the boulder that Terra had flown them there on. Robin sighed, finishing the argument and sitting down on the rock; Terra boarded it too, standing upon it like the captain of a ship.

"You clinging to me again?"

"Depends on how fast we go," Robin replied icily.

"Oh, I was thinking maybe… I don't know, 80mph, perhaps?"

Robin answered by wrapping his leather-clad arms firmly around Terra's legs. She giggled again as she lifted the entire boulder into the air with her impressive powers.

"You can _definitely_ fully control your powers now, right?" Robin asked nervously as they began to rise higher and higher; it was never too late to jump off… "'Cause, I mean, when you were a _Titan_, you-"

"At thirty-one years of age, Robin, I should certainly _hope_ so," Terra interrupted irritably. "I _told_ you, _Slade_ taught me to control them _years_ ago. Only useful thing he ever did; unfortunately, it came at a price…"

"Oh. Yeah. Right…"

Robin looked back at the broken, burnt mansion now become further and further away, and thought of Bruce shut up inside it all by himself…

"You ready?"

Robin blinked and looked up at Terra.

"Yeah."

Terra frowned.

"What were you looking at?"

Robin took one last look at Wayne Manor, then shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied vaguely. "Just one more person I have to _avenge_…"

* * *

I can't even remember what happens next… Uh, I'll have to dig out the next chapter and dust it off. Seriously, I wrote this part of the fic _sooooooooo_ long ago…

Could be Roy. I think it's Roy…

You'll just have to come back next time and see, _hmm_?

Ugh, sorry about the lame ANs, people…

- RobinRocks xXx


	14. Sagittarius

Sagittarius. The archer. Yes indeedy, here comes Roy – finally! Yay!

Ironically, Sagittarius is my own star-sign, but that's obviously not why I picked it. I know I've been teasing about Roy since _Black Magic_, and you've all been very patient. He's finally here now, in a fifteen years older form, known to DCU-goers as Roy Harper/Arsenal. I'm afraid he doesn't actually feature in this story as Speedy – but you get Arsenal instead, which is _nearly_ as good, right?

Well, I just hope you're not disappointed by him.

Hm, I am sensing a slight loss of interest in this story now that the time-travel twist has settled down. I mean, no-one has actually blatantly said "OMG, this is totally boring, see ya!" in their review, and I do not think I am arrogant in the presumption that most of you _will_ read right through to the end, if only to see how I write myself out of this, because a lot of you have read right through from _Asylum_ and it would be dumb for you to quit now after all that, right? But yes, I noticed that some of you noted in your reviews that this was getting bland and unpredictable.

You might be right there, in the sense that time travel has been done a million times before, and pretty much always follows the same pattern. I know what you mean, and I agree with you, but… well, I have written the whole of _Remember the Titans_. I've written myself out of this bland mess already and I think it's turned out okay.

An awful lot of this fic might be predictable; but there's an awful lot that's not. _Trust_ me. You wanna see some of the surprises I have in store – and keep reading, and you _will_ see them.

_Puleeeeeeze? _

Anyway, thanks to; **Kami Elf **(actually, I wasn't too _tired_ to write ANs, I was just too lazy, but thankyou so much for the very kind defence. I am writing them this time to thank you! Enjoy Arsenal!); **Quinn and His Quill **(ah, thankyou so much for that well-put, thoughtful and deep review, Quinn. I was most humbled by your wonderful and superior way with the English language…); **YamiTai **(what seems like a million years ago, I promised you Roy. And here he is. I am very excited to hear your opinion on him – I hope you aren't disappointed by him); **LoopyLouise123 **(aww, yeah, feel the love for Alfie! I love Alfred and his dry wit… Hope you like Roy too!); **Narroch **(wow, look at you, astride your Bitch Mobile… O.o What did I do to deserve this? Just kidding, I am just glad you liked seeing OOC ZOMG Bruce… And yes, don't be getting all like "Rawr" and in my face about making you wait because it's your damn fault so get back in your bloody cage and get writing/colouring!); **Guardian of Azarath **(Yes, Roy is certainly a smoother character than Bruce, so you can bet this meeting will be slick. Or slimy. Whichever you prefer…); **The FallenAngel67 **(wow, yay, thankyou sooooooooooooo much! I'm so glad you're still reading, too, and I really appreciate that you take the time and effort to read it when English is not your first language. I know I couldn't do what you do…); **Athena's Wings **(Batman is one of my favourite heroes too. My favourite, I think. Apart from Robin. :P I hope _this_ update was quick enough for you); **Me **(Gyah! Calm down! Here's Roy! Take him and leave me alone!); **TheLon3Wolf8986 **(where am I going with this? You can't really tell at the moment, but I actually have dropped a bunch of hints. You just need to know where to look… Guess you'll just have to keep reading, huh?); **Raven Victoria Grayson **(another one tired with the time travelling phenomena? Don't worry, it _is_ all going somewhere… eventually…); **Simmie **(I've never been unfortunate enough myself to have anyone close to me forget who I am (although maybe some of them might like to… O.o), but yeah, I'd imagine it hurts a lot. That was pretty much my interpretation of it…); and **Crazy Insomniac** (whoa, you were lucky there, dude... talk about a last minute review. I just got an email alert for it about five minutes ago... Hey, upon reading your simultaneous reviews for both _Remember the Titans_ and _Nevarmore_, I noticed that both chapters featured Batman. It wasn't deliberate, and I didn't notice before now...).

And now… Roy. And some other familiar faces too…

Sagittarius 

_(a.k.a Robin's Adventures in a Sleazy Downtown Gotham Nightclub)_

"_88 BPM?_" Robin read, confused.

"It stands for "88 Beats Per Minute"," Terra explained. "You know, as in a heartbeat?"

"Oh, right."

Robin nodded as he looked up at the nightclub before where he and Terra stood on a dark, filthy Gotham street. Roy – known to Robin as "Speedy" – Harper's club. It actually appeared to be in better condition than the clubs flanking it, especially considering that it was quite of out the way in Downtown Gotham, several blocks from the club Robin had fled for his life from only the night before.

It was a large premises, with a double doorway and a crimson neon sign reading _88 BPM_ in a brilliant showcard font above it. It was a little run-down, but that was probably because it had been standing there for years, way before Roy Harper had taken it over and turned it into a club. The walls, painted black, were a little cracked and mossy and peeling slightly, and someone had sprayed "Puffy AmiYumi Rock!" in fading neon green spray-paint on the left side of the doorway. The beat of the music playing from within – it sounded like heavy metal – echoed far beyond it, and Robin could actually feel the filthy pavement vibrating beneath his feet.

"Have you got your clock?" Terra asked him as she went to push open the door.

Robin nodded, looking down at the Clock of Eternity clutched to his chest.

"Then let's get off this rat-infested back alley," she murmured. "And Robin…" She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. "Not that you don't look good in those clothes – entirely the opposite in fact – but just… stay real close to me, okay? Don't go off by yourself, especially not dressed like _that_, you know what I mean?"

Robin's masked eyes widened as he looked at the closed doorway of the club.

"What do you… there are gay people in here, aren't-"

Terra didn't allow him to finish, instead pushing him into the club in front of her.

"_Terra, answer me!_" Robin hissed furiously as Terra pulled the doors shut behind them.

"Yes, there are," Terra replied simply. "In fact, I'd say that over halfof the guys in here are gay. Most of 'em won't do you any harm, but just… watch out, okay? Stick close to me and they won't go near you."

"But… but…" Robin floundered desperately, looking down at himself. Every tiny detail of his body was accentuated by the tight clothing Terra had made him don for "camouflage" reasons.

_Everything_.

The leather pants suddenly seemed tighter than ever; why did he suddenly feel so underdressed when he was completely covered from the neck down?

Because in tight leather and Lycra, dressed like a cross between _The Matrix_ and a calendar boy from the Official Annual Gay Jerk-Off Club calendar, he was a _magnet_ to these guys.

"Terra, I _really_ don't want to go in here," he squeaked, clawing desperately at her arm. "Can't _you_ just get Speedy to-?"

"But I want him to see you," Terra interrupted calmly. "Look, you'll be fine, all you have to do is walk through the tables to the bar at the front and you'll be sailing. And I'll be right beside you, I _promise_ they won't lay a hand on you." She grinned, flicking her ponytail back over her shoulder. "They're all scared to death of me in here, since that last time I threatened to start an earthquake if they didn't stop fighting."

"Yeah, but…" Robin ducked behind her, peeping out around her and surveying the scene.

It was hardly one of Gotham's finest, even if it _was_ the "In" place to be; it was seriously sleazy. It wasn't the layout that was seedy – it actually reminded him of a 50s diner, with its tables and booths and high stools at the bar counter. No, it was the company that was sordid, the atmosphere that sent shivers down his Lycra-clad spine. Like the club the night before, it seemed to be populated entirely of men, but these men were not the shady gangsters and lounge lizards of that other club; these were so-called party-goers – sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Some of them were obviously homosexual, others simply scary-looking. They sat around their tables, drinking, playing cards, passing out on the floor, spewing up, jerking off, sucking each other off on tabletops—

"Terra, I want to go," Robin whined, tugging at her arm. "I don't like it in here."

"Aww, poor little thing," Terra soothed, bending down slightly and hugging him. "You'll be fine once we get past the scum here at the back. It's a bit better down the front, like a real club with entertainment and everything, okay? And we won't stay long, I _promise_."

"But…"

Robin stared at her in exasperation; _why_ couldn't she understand? He had been homosexually _raped_ by Slade, and _preceding_ that he had… And now the sight of these guys, some of them wearing leather straps, SS caps, PVC god-knows-everything-else, some merely affectionate, others indulging in seriously X-rated material…

"If I don't get out of here, I'm going to be sick," Robin threatened under his breath.

"No you are _not_," Terra responded sharply. "Now stop being silly and get your little rear end down to that bar."

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him forwards so that he stumbled several paces and straightened up to find himself within the midst of what Terra had aptly labelled the "scum". Terra sailed past him, gripping his wrist as she did so and tugging him with her. He tried to pull back but she didn't pay any attention to him, dragging him forwards anyway.

About halfway down the long room he felt a sharp slap across his leather-clad butt and jumped, stopping dead in his tracks. Terra stopped too, looking back at him with a puzzled look on her face; she raised an eyebrow when she saw him standing there, frozen, the clock clutched to his chest with his free hand.

"That is _it!_" Robin snapped, suddenly coming back to life. "I am _leaving!_"

He turned… and froze again as he saw the sea of them, leering at him, grinning; one of them licked his lips…

Terra placed her hands on his shoulders, putting her mouth right beside his ear.

"_Better to go forwards than back, trust me_," she whispered confidentially.

Robin nodded mutely, still staring at them in horror, and allowed her to turn him back around and steer him through the rest of the crowd. She was right; towards the front they just seemed to be normal guys, drinking and laughing and then drinking some more. And in fact he had been wrong on that first count; there _were_ women in here, in short dresses and fishnets, smoking, acting as lap-ornaments.

Prostitutes, then.

And definitely gangsters too, all clustered in one smoky corner arguing in hushed voices. Some of them he recognised from that other club last night—

"Oh no," he whispered wildly, tugging at Terra's arm.

"What?" Terra asked, looking down at him.

"That's him!" Robin hissed, pointing at a stocky man in a pinstriped suit and black fedora. "That's the guy that tried to get the clock and the necklace off me last night. The one that tried to kill me…"

Terra looked up, squinting through the cigar smoke.

"Oh, _Lambini_," she said, not sounding too perplexed. "Yeah, he and his gang are regulars in here, although sometimes they go to other clubs too. Apparently they tend to go to _Jake's_; that's probably the club you ended up in last night. Quite small, but it has a seriously notorious reputation. Bruce _hates_ it."

"What if he recognises me?" Robin squeaked.

"Then I'll kick his ass," Terra deadpanned. "Besides, he won't even _see_ you in this place; it's not like you stick out any more than anyone else now that you've lost that superhero garb."

Robin nodded tersely, still anxious. Terra rolled her eyes and pushed him in the direction of the bar.

The heavy rock music seemed to be getting louder and louder as they approached the bar, and Robin looked in the direction it was coming from, expecting to see a huge speaker turned up to full volume. To his surprise he saw a stage – something that he had not noticed before – and was even more taken aback to note that the music was in fact live, being performed by a seriously scary-looking Goth band consisting of four men, all wearing torn black clothes and plastered in white and black make-up. They weren't even really singing either – the lead singer seemed to just be screaming into the microphone, shaking his tangled mane of black hair all over the place as he did so. Two metal poles were situated at either side of the stage, and around these wound two girls, naked but equally freaky-looking, with shocks of backcombed black hair and white faces decorated by elaborately made-up eyes and lips with black mascara and lipstick.

The guys in the first few rows in front of the stage were all leaning forwards, their senses fixed not on the "music", but on the girls.

And Robin stared too, mesmerized by their weird, writhing movement… until Terra put her hand over his masked eyes and dragged him away towards the bar.

"Oh no you don't, young man," she said between gritted teeth, sounding she was his mom. "You're _sixteen_ years old…"

"_You_ brought me in here," Robin pointed out, still blinded by her hand.

"Shut your sass-hole," Terra snapped as she reached the long bar counter. She let go of him, taking her hand away from his eyes. "And if your eyes stray towards that stage, I'll gouge them _out_," she threatened him, flicking the tip of his nose. "_Capische?_"

Robin nodded nervously.

"Capische," he responded timidly.

Terra grinned and hoisted herself onto one of the high bar stools, patting the one next to her own. Robin clambered onto it and looked around. His feet dangled at least half a metre from the floor, and everybody else sitting at the counter seemed to be in the same position. There weren't actually that many people sitting up here, most seemingly preferring booths and tables. A few seats to Robin's right sat a middle-aged man, his blonde hair beginning to go white, in a rumpled black suit knocking back the row of tiny shots in front of him. Two seats away from _him_ was a gay couple, and beyond them again a tall black man who somehow reminded Robin of a basketball player.

He looked to the left across Terra; there was only one person sitting to the left of her.

A very handsome man, though he looked to be in his late forties, with slightly dark skin; and completely bald. He wore simply a pair of black trousers and a white shirt, the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. There was a heavy frosted glass of beer in front of him but he was not drinking it, merely staring into it miserably.

Robin frowned; he recognised that man, even though he seemed older than the version Robin knew. Oh, _where_ had he seen him before?...

Then it hit him.

_Lex Luthor_.

Robin stared at him, gobsmacked. Lex Luthor, Superman's #1 arch-nemesis, like Batman with the Joker, or Robin himself with Slade, was now, in this future, just another man destroyed by Slade's rule of tyranny. Lex Luthor, the powerful, rich, devious owner of LexCorp. But then, if LexCorp had been destroyed the way Wayne Enterprises had, then Luthor would have been left centless, just like Bruce had been.

Why then, hadn't Lex joined Slade, the way the Joker and countless others had? Or if he had seen sense, why hadn't he joined Batman's Titans instead, and fought to save the world that was crumbling around him?

"Terra," he hissed, poking her arm. "That's Lex Luthor, isn't it?"

Terra blinked and turned her head; then she smiled.

"Hey, Lex," she greeted the man brightly, causing Robin to blanch.

Lex Luthor looked up wearily; his tired face broke into a weak smile when he saw Terra.

"Hello, Terra," he replied jadedly. "Nice to see you, as always…"

Robin looked from Terra to Lex Luthor and then back again, stunned.

"You _know_ him?!" He spluttered, tugging at her arm to get her attention. "But he's one of the _bad_ guys!"

Terra snorted.

"Tch, yeah. That was, like, _years_ ago. He's a big softie, aren't you, Lex?"

Lex's mouth twitched slightly.

"Yeah," he murmured.

He got up, leaving his untouched beer on the counter.

"Don't think me rude, Terra," he went on, his voice very soft and weary. "It's just that I have some things to attend to. I only stopped by to ask Roy something; he gave me that beer on the house."

"Sure," Terra replied, shrugging. "See you soon, Lex."

Lex nodded and picked up his jacket from the floor, pulling it on and tugging it straight; even fifteen years on he was still devastatingly handsome, though he did not have that same confidence and poise he had once possessed.

"Tell Bruce I sent my regards," he said, waving his fingertips vaguely at her.

"If he remembers who you are," Terra muttered in reply; Lex heard it and smiled faintly on his way out.

"Ok, would you like to _explain_ that to me?" Robin snapped, punching Terra on the arm. "You didn't mention _anything_ about Lex Luthor last night!"

"_Ouch_." Terra rubbed her arm where he had hit her, her blue eyes narrowed. "Okay squirt, here's something you should take heed of; I didn't stand temper-tantrums from _Nightwing_, and I'm not going to stand them from _you_, so don't use your fancy little martial arts moves on me or I'll drop a boulder on you."

"_Explain!_" Robin demanded.

"And don't get lippy with me either," Terra spat, jabbing the tip of his nose with a long, pointed finger. She sighed heavily, removing it. "Okay, Luthor. Not much to tell really. When Slade first started taking over Lex tried to cement a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, hoping to build weapons as a means of combating him. Bruce wouldn't hear of it, so Luthor tried to do it himself. However, he quickly ran out of money and LexCorp went bankrupt. Luthor tried to build on a corporate scam, hoping to siphon money out of other companies in Metropolis, including the _Daily Planet_. Lois Lane figured out what he was up to and she and Clark collected the evidence to bust him. He was arrested and given fifteen years, _but_… six months later Slade turned up and overthrew Metropolis and pretty much repeated the pattern of ransacking everything, stealing anything worth stealing, and destroying buildings that he felt were "useless". Unfortunately, jails fell into that category, what with Jump City's jail first, then Arkham Asylum. So, Luthor got out, but with no money he couldn't start to rebuild his empire. Instead, he went to Slade, said that he could help him. Slade, being Slade, used him as much as he needed, then attempted to kill him; he shot Lex in eleven places and left him for dead. Bruce found him bleeding to death in the streets of Metropolis and brought him back to Gotham to patch him up. As it happened, Lex had overheard lots of Slade's plans and intentions and he relayed them all to Bruce as repayment – obviously he found out that Bruce was Batman – and using Lex's information we were able to stop a lot of Slade's attacks. He was very helpful, and certainly reformed, and we tried to persuade him to join the Titans, but he didn't want to. He helped us out from time to time if Bruce asked, but otherwise he settled down in Gotham and now lives the hovel existence that the rest of us do. He comes in here a lot to see Roy, and sometimes he goes to see Bruce too, although the last time Bruce gave him a black eye."

Terra sighed again, shaking her head.

"You know, _refusing_ to join the Titans is probably the reason he's still alive. Bruce, Roy and I are lucky to still be here, and it's not without injury. I mean, you saw Bruce's mental condition, but his physical health's not too good either. Did you see the walking stick by his chair today?"

Robin nodded, puzzled.

"Well, remember I told you about the day Nightwing died, that Bruce got shot too?"

Again Robin nodded.

"The shot shattered Bruce's leg, and he was in such a bad state that day after watching Dick die he wouldn't let any of us touch it. I know it sounds sick, but I think he wanted to endure the pain to its full extent, as though he was punishing himself for not saving Dick. So it healed on its own, but it didn't heal correctly, and now he's crippled. He can barely _walk_ without that stick."

Robin blinked.

"So… he's not exactly _Batman_ anymore? I mean, he doesn't go out into the streets and fight crime anymore?"

"_None_ of us do, Robin. Not anymore… After Dick died we put up the white flag. It just hurt too much…"

"That's not what Nightwing would have wanted," Robin protested. "That's not what _I_ would have wanted!"

"Robin, _I know_, _believe_ me, but it's not that simple, especially with Bruce the way he is. Even if he _wasn't_ mad as a hatter he'd _still_ be obsolete, with his leg the way it is."

"But you _gave up!_" Robin pressed. "You swore to fight for justice, and you threw in the towel. Slade is _still_ pulling the strings here—"

"Robin, don't do this _again_," Terra pleaded wearily. "I know it's difficult for you to understand, having been thrown out of your own time, a much _happier_ time where the Teen Titans and the Justice League and Batman and Superman all still live, and still stop evil the way they're supposed to… where everything is still in _balance_. You come from a world where the biggest struggle in your life is deciding what movie to watch or choosing pizza toppings that everyone agrees on. You haven't lived through fifteen years of _Hell_, the way _I_ have, or the way Roy and Bruce and Lex have, but trust me, when you've seen what _we_ have, you aren't quite as optimistic or enthusiastic about upholding vows that are only going to be broken anyway."

She turned away, signalling that the conversation was over, and Robin sighed heavily.

"Terra!"

Robin jumped as a pleasantly surprised voice loudly accentuated the earth-mover's name.

"Roy," Terra returned the gesture, lifting a hand in greeting. "Wondered when you were going to make your appearance."

Roy Harper sailed over to them, a grin on his long, handsome face and a glass in one hand, wiping it with a green cloth.

"Sorry, had some stock to tend to out back," he explained. "Need to refill the cigarette machines… I also had to break up a few fights."

"Nothing new, then," Terra murmured.

Roy's grin only widened.

Robin had only met Roy Harper once in his own time, under the alias "Speedy" when they had both been forced to participate in the Master of Games' "Tournament of Heroes" in a bid to find the greatest young hero on Earth.

_Which **I** won_, he thought smugly.

But, if he remembered correctly, it had all been a scam, in which the Master of Games acquired the powers of those who lost their battles. When Robin had beaten Speedy in the final round, the title of "winner" bestowed upon him had only meant that he was the only one not to have been absorbed by the Master's magical amulet.

It had been a seriously lousy prize; not only had Cyborg and Beast Boy been absorbed, but Aqualad too and Robin's newfound friend/clone Speedy. He could remember Speedy now, as in his own time, the Tournament of Heroes had only been two or three months ago. If memory served, the sixteen-year-old Speedy had looked similar to Robin himself, even donning the same mask, but his build was slightly taller and ganglier. The muscles in his shoulders and arms had also been more developed than Robin's own, because of his skill and prowess with a bow and arrow. His face was also longer and thinner than Robin's, which was rounded, almost heart-shaped; and he had brilliant red hair, not black. His outfit had been crimson, sleeveless, with bright yellow details and a badge stating "S" for Speedy instead of Robin's own "R". Cyborg and Beast Boy had joked that Speedy was Robin's clone, and indeed, they had been incredibly similar in both personality and looks, with those few notable differences.

But "Speedy" had changed; the man standing before Robin now was not that sixteen-year-old archer anymore. He still retained the looks of his younger-self – the tall frame, the red hair, the long, thin face – but they too had aged. Where the sixteen-year-old Roy Harper, or "Speedy", had seemed… well, typically teenaged, _this_ Roy Harper was very handsome, his red hair now a darker shade of its original colour, and shaved close to his head. Now it was not only his arms and shoulders that were muscular – his entire frame had filled out powerfully, giving the impression that he worked out a lot; his face seemed more chiselled, and his mouth was firm and determined like Bruce's, except that he was actually smiling. In place of his crimson uniform he wore a close-fitting white t-shirt and faded all-American blue jeans underneath a black bartender's apron, and in the absence of his mask Robin was surprised to note that Roy Harper's eyes were brilliant blue, just like his own.

"So, what'll it be, Rocky?" Roy asked genially, giving Terra a little push on the arm. "The usual? Oh, by the way, you're looking good enough to eat, as usual."

"Knock it off, Roy," Terra sighed. "And I wish you'd stop calling me "Rocky"."

"Well, I'd call you "Stony", but people might misinterpret that and think you're some kind of junkie."

"Oh, I see. You're being _considerate_."

"Exactly." Roy seemed pleased.

Terra sighed and pulled the black ponyband from her ponytail, shaking her mane of gold hair free around her face. Roy leaned over the bar, his expression mockingly dreamy.

"I _love_ it when you do that," he murmured.

"You want a broken nose, Harper?"

"Good heavens, _no!_" Roy cried, pretending to be aghast as he stepped back and put his hands to his nose. "You'll ruin my beautiful face!"

"If I want sass, Roy, there's plenty of other places I could be," Terra said dangerously.

"True," Roy acknowledged. "And if _I_ want a broken nose, I could just go round to Bruce's on a bad day."

"_Roy_."

"Look, I _know_ he can't help it," Roy sighed, putting the glass and green cloth down on the counter. "But he _snapped_ my freakin' wrist, and it's _seriously_ affected my arching. I… hold on a second…"

Roy looked across the bar and Terra and Robin followed his gaze; Chester Lambini, flanked by four lackeys on each side, was approaching the bar. Robin squeaked and slid off his stool, shooting behind Terra and hiding. He had fought the gangster(s) off okay last night, but why deliberately provoke an attack? Better to stay out of sight, especially when he still had the Clock of Eternity and the Blood Diamond on him…

"Harper," Chester Lambini said sharply when he reached the counter. "Me an' my boys are cashin' out for the night. Got change for a coupla fifties?"

"Sure thing, Mr Lambini," Roy replied amiably, holding out his hand to receive the money. Chester pressed a whole wad of $50 bills into his outstretched hand and Roy flipped through them, counting them and quickly adding them up.

"Ok, back in a sec," he said, sauntering off in the direction of the till.

Chester Lambini turned his attention on Terra, who gazed back at him boredly; Robin ducked right down behind her stool in the dark, thankful at this point for the fully-black outfit he was wearing.

"Hey there, gorgeous," Chester leered, chewing on the end of his cigar.

"Hey," Terra replied monotonely; she had dealt with Lambini before – _several_ times, actually, and every time he had tried it on with her.

"You waitin' for a pick-up?" Chester asked, his tone and expression both somewhat hopeful.

Terra smiled sourly.

"Not tonight, Mr Lambini," she replied pleasantly. "But I'm sure there are plenty of _guys_ in here that _are_."

Chester's face twisted.

"You got a mouth on ya, babe," he spat.

Terra didn't get to reply as Roy chose that moment to return, barely able to close his hand around the thick wad of crisp green dollar bills he held.

"Here you are, Mr Lambini," he said graciously, handing them over. "Enjoy your evening, and hope to see you again soon."

"Sure thing, Harper," Chester said, his small eyes still fixed on Terra. "See ya around…"

He turned and left, but not before his eyes lingered on Terra once more, looking almost longingly at her breasts, accentuated by the lacy black fabric of her tight top.

"_Ugh_, that guy is a total _pig_," Terra said in disgust after the gangster was safely out of earshot. "Can't you _ban_ him, Roy?"

"Afraid not," Roy replied wistfully, scratching his short red hair. "God knows _I_ don't like him too much either, but he and his pals are pretty good customers, and besides, at least _he_ doesn't jerk off on the table top and then leave it for _me_ to wipe down."

Terra pulled a face, then looked behind her.

"It's okay now, baby," she whispered to Robin. "You can come out now; he's gone."

Robin ventured out from behind Terra's stool, shaking his head slightly to clear it from the smoke he had inhaled while down there.

Roy stared athim, his mouth hanging open

"_Jesus_ _Christ_…" he murmured. "That kid's a dead-ringer for Dick when he was a Teen Titan…"

"Roy, this _is_ Dick," Terra sighed. "I know it seems crazy, but… it's really him. _Robin_."

"Terra, Dick is _dead_," Roy said wearily.

"Yes, _our_ Dick," Terra agreed. "But _this_ one… he's from another time, a time fifteen years ago in the past. Why on earth do you think he still looks sixteen, if he's been magically resurrected from death?"

"Okay, now you're expecting me to believe in _time-travel?_" Roy asked skeptically.

"The Clock of Eternity, Roy," Terra whispered, taking the clock from Robin's hands as he scrambled back onto his high stool. "You must know of its powers?"

"I've _heard_ of its powers," Roy corrected. "I've never _believed_ in them."

"Well, start believing, _Speedy_, 'cause they're the real deal. _This_ Robin is fresh from the day the Titans died at Overload's electrical hand."

Roy looked at Robin, frowning at him, taking in every detail.

"Tell me she's joking, kid," he said, half-willingly.

Robin shook his head slowly.

"I'm afraid not," he replied. He pointed to the clock clutched in Terra's hands. "I used the Clock of Eternity to time-travel, intending to go back ten hours and prevent the Teen Titans from being killed. _But_… the thing screwed up and threw me forwards to _this_ time. Fifteen years, according to Terra."

Terra nodded in confirmation.

Roy sighed, scratching his hair.

"So what do you want me to do?" He glanced at Robin. "I mean, not that it's _not_ nice to see ya an' all, Dick; you know, not covered in blood and riddled with bullet-holes, but…"

He trailed off, looking lost.

"_You_ need to fix the clock, Roy," Terra said, sounding as though she thought he was stupid not to realise it. She placed it on the counter in front of him and he picked it up, examining it.

"Looks okay to me," he stated finally, showing it to them both. "The pendulum's still swinging, and the hands are moving. You _sure_ it's broken, Night… I mean, _Robin?_"

Terra looked at him too.

"Yeah, he's got a point, actually," she agreed. "It _does_ appear to working fine. You sure you did it right?"

"If I hadn't done it right in the _first_ place, how did I get _here_?" Robin pointed out, irritated. "I did it right, I swear, I just… I tried it three times and it just won't work."

"Well, Roy, that's where _you_ come in," Terra said slowly, looking back at the former-archer. "Time to make yourself useful."

"Thanks." Roy frowned at it still. "Ok, I'll take a look at it for you, but I can't do it right now. It'll have to be after I close the bar, which is at midnight."

Terra nodded.

"Great; thanks, Roy."

Roy grinned.

"No problem. Now, what're you on tonight?"

Terra considered that for a second.

"_Tropical Twist_ cocktail," she decided finally.

"With or without vodka?" Roy asked, pulling out different coloured spirit bottles and a tall cocktail glass.

"With. But just a little bit."

Roy nodded and expertly and quickly put the cocktail together, shaking it in a way reminiscent of James Bond; Robin watched him, fascinated.

"Here you are, m'lady," Roy said, his voice somewhat sultry as he slid the finished azure-blue cocktail across the counter at her.

"Hey, where's my palm tree?" Terra demanded half-jokingly as she looked at the cocktail.

"Oops, sorry, Your Highness," Roy said mockingly, fishing under the bar and emerging with a tiny plastic palm tree cocktail-decoration. He placed it in her drink, grinning.

"And _you_, good sir?" Roy went on in the same manner, turning to Robin.

"Uhh…" Robin pointed to Terra's cocktail. "I want one of those too."

He said it mostly because he wanted to see Roy make it up again in that impressive fashion, but both the archer and the earth-mover snorted.

"No you will _not_," Terra informed him snippily, taking a sip of her own. "You're underage to be drinking alcohol. Not twenty-one, remember?"

"_What?_" Robin was outraged. "You let those guys down the back… well, do _allsorts_ all over your table tops, but you _won't_ give me a cocktail? This place is _seriously_ screwed up!"

"Look, if you were just regular Gotham scum off the streets I wouldn't care, as long as you had the money to pay for it," Roy explained, sounding bored. "But not _you_, Robin. Nightwing never approved of me giving alcohol to under twenty-ones."

"I _am_ Nightwing," Robin reminded him through gritted teeth. "You're treating me as if you think I'm his _son_. _I'm not_. I'm a _younger version_ of him—"

"And _Bruce_ doesn't approve of it either," Roy went on, his voice still monotone. "I gave Tim Drake a shot glass full of beer once and he went _nuts_ on me, and so did Alfred and Dick. So… sorry, kiddo, but no booze for _you_, I'm afraid."

Robin snorted; he had just been arguing for the sake of it, really – he actually didn't _want_ the alcohol. But he still couldn't understand the logic behind Roy's bar and club rules.

"You can have something else, though," Roy said brightly. "You want Coca Cola, POM Wonderful, root beer, Perrier, lemonade or iced tea?"

"Iced tea," Robin said sulkily. "Coming right up," Roy chirped, and within seconds Robin found a pint glass full of the amber liquid in front of him, the equivalent of a small iceberg swimming in it.

"On the house, as always," Roy went on, flashing a grin at Terra.

"So… do you actually run a gay bar, Speedy?" Robin asked carefully, having to pick up his full glass with both hands just to take a sip.

"_Roy_," Roy corrected mildly. "Or Arsenal. I haven't been called Speedy since I was nineteen."

"Oh. Sorry."

"And no, I _don't_ run a gay bar," Roy went on airily. "This is just a regular club – the "In" place to be, I might add."

"But it's seriously _sleazy_," Robin protested. "I mean, no offence or anything, Roy, 'cause you seem to be making a sweet buck off it and all, but you have all these… _freaks_ jerking off on your table tops, and doing _other_ stuff that I don't wanna go into, and naked girls on your stage like it's some kinda strip club, and gangsters over in the corner making heroin deals…"

Roy and Terra both grinned.

"You've been away from Gotham City _too_ long, kid," Roy said cheerfully. "This dump has _always_ been like this."

"Well, _yeah_," Robin agreed, taking another sip of his iced tea. "I know that; I mean, the gangsters and stuff. Me an' Batman were the guys who used to break into these places and kick their tails. But _this_ just seems OTT; I can't ever remember seeing this many gay people in Gotham, at least not outside of actual gay bars."

"What can I say?" Roy murmured, shrugging. "Granted, Gotham's a little more screwed up than it used to be; I mean, half the city's population seem to be gay. I don't know _why_; maybe it's something to do with the water supply or something dumb…"

"So why do they all come in _here?_" Robin pressed.

"Because, as I already _told_ you, this is the "In" place to be," Roy replied smugly. "_Everybody_ comes in here; I've gotten the reputation as the best club in Gotham City. Though, in all fairness, most of the other clubs are the size of box closets. I mean, mine is huge, so there's plenty of room for everyone. And I've got a bigger licensing deal than any other club, so I can sell more beverages."

"Besides, Robin," Terra chipped in breezily, "remember I told you that all the "freaks" tend to stick around the back and outer edges of the club?"

Robin nodded slowly.

"Well, this place is kinda like a bathtub after you've had a bubblebath in it," Roy carried on, sounding amused. "The scum all sticks around the edges."

Terra snorted into her cocktail and even Robin managed a wry smile.

"Oh, Terra, by the way," Roy said suddenly, turning to the earth-mover and snapping his fingers. "I need you to help me with something; I was actually hoping you'd call in tonight. There's been a cave-in down in the basement, rocks and boulders and stuff everywhere. I can't get to some of my stock, and the beer taps are gonna be running dry soon. I don't think they'll last the night without a top-up. Think you could give me a hand?"

"You mean could I do all the work while you stand and watch?" Terra re-interpreted.

"Naturally," Roy said with a grin.

"Sure thing," Terra responded drolly. "You wanna do it now?"

Roy nodded and Terra rose from her stool, draining her cocktail in one mouthful.

"Ok, let's do this," she sighed, stretching. Then she pulled off her leather jacket, baring her black lacy top.

"Just what I said," Roy murmured. "Good enough to eat…"

"Back off, sleaze," Terra threatened, shaking her long blonde hair back.

Roy grinned and winked at Robin, who gazed impassively back at him.

"You gonna be okay here by yourself for a minute, Robin?" Terra asked, turning to Robin.

At once Robin went on the alert.

"What?" He spluttered. "You're… you're gonna leave me here by _myself?_"

"It'll only be for a minute," Terra promised, holding up one finger to accentuate her point. "Seriously, it'll only take me a _minute_ to shift that rock for Roy. You'll barely notice that we're gone."

"No." Robin shook his head wildly. "No, I'm coming too."

"_No!_" Terra sounded annoyed now. "It's too dangerous down there for you. You stay up here where you're safe, okay?"

"But… Terra, you can't leave me here by myself," Robin said desperately. "Please, you _can't_-"

"Robin, we're going to leave you for a _minute_," Terra interrupted irritably. "Now stop being silly. These guys _won't hurt you_."

Robin looked around tentatively.

"But I-"

"Here." Roy interrupted him this time, thrusting a packet of dry roasted peanuts into his face. "Shut up and scarf these. We'll be back before you know it, okay?"

Robin grudgingly took the peanuts, trying to concoct another argument even as he tore the packet open. He looked up again, shaking some peanuts into his palm, and found that Terra and Roy had both vanished.

He felt slightly nervous now, without the sense of protection Terra and Roy's presence had given him. Still, he knew that the _worst_ thing would be to advertise the fact that he felt more than a little apprehensive, so forced himself to appear calm and nonchalant, as though he came into these places every night of the week. He swung around on his stool, slowly munching a mouthful of peanuts, then picked up his glass of iced tea and took another drink; as he did so he noticed that the Clock of Eternity was gone. No big deal – Terra must have taken it to get it out of the way.

It was as he put the heavy glass down that he saw the guy approaching him; a heavy, thickset man in a PVC catsuit unzipped right down to the bottom of his large belly. He came right up to the bar, leaning over the counter as though looking for something.

Next to him, Robin put down his bag of peanuts on the bar and slid off his stool. He despised the phobia that had been cultivated within him; but Slade had created it in him, and just the notion of being anywhere _near_ someone who had homosexual tendencies of any kind was enough to bring a cold sweat to his skin, even when he knew that the vast majority of the gay community would never do to him what _Slade_ had done.

He was just starting to edge away when the guy suddenly reached out and grasped him by the wrist, tugging him almost off his feet.

"Hey, kid, where's Harper?" The guy asked, all business.

"Roy?" Robin squeaked. "He went out back for a second…"

"With the blonde one?" The guy snorted. "Bitch, always turning up in here where she's not wanted… Well, when he gets back, tell him the smokes machine is empty…"

The guy released him and ambled off again.

Robin heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps Terra was right, perhaps these guys really _weren't_ interested in him…

So perhaps it couldn't do him any harm to have a little wander around.

Still, he was confused about the guy's attitude towards Terra. Did he truly resent her presence in the club simply because she was female? Or was it because she was such close friends with Roy?...

Because, even as another guy, Robin couldn't deny it – Roy Harper practically had "KNOCKOUT" tattooed across his forehead.

As he passed the stage he noticed that the act was coming to an end; the naked girls had already left the stage and the scary screaming Goth-guys were just wrapping up, shrieking "Goodnight, you fuckers!" into the microphone to an audience that had lost interest now that the two girls were absent.

As it happened, Robin almost walked into one of the girls, who was coming the other way from backstage, now fully dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a pink jacket. Her scary make-up was washed off too, and as Robin apologised and stepped aside he saw her pull off the backcombed black wig… to reveal blonde hair.

He stared at her, recognising her even though she was fifteen years older.

"Kitten?"

She looked back at him slightly, unsmiling. Instead of jumping on him, addressing him as "Robbie-Poo" and attempting to kiss him, as the fifteen-year-younger incarnation would have done, _this_ Kitten merely looked at him and turned away again, carrying on through the throng.

Robin raised an eyebrow; definitely an improvement in the personality stakes. But then, she probably didn't even recognise him; or if she _did_, she no longer cared about him. Or perhaps she thought herself mad to have seen his sixteen year old self in a future fifteen years ahead, just as Terra had done. Either way, he wasn't bothered, as long as it didn't involve him being forced to escort her to her junior prom.

But things were certainly hard up here; everybody from Jump seemed to be in Gotham, and Kitten had seemingly given up pink limousines in exchange for dancing naked in sleazy clubs. Not by _choice_, he guessed, but it appeared that even the ones who had once been rich – Bruce, Lex Luthor, Kitten – had _nothing_.

While _Slade_ had _everything_.

He continued to weave in and out of tables, absently looking around. Recorded music had started up now, more heavy metal that not many seemed to be particularly enjoying. It was actually very hard on the head, and Robin had to admit that he didn't like it much either.

He was somewhat distracted from the music when he was suddenly jerked sideways off his feet, finding himself in some guy's lap. Robin blinked and looked up at the man who had "kidnapped" him. He shivered, tensing up; another gay guy, only this one seemed slightly more interested in him than the other one at the bar. He also seemed more drunk, swaying a little on his chair.

"Hey," he leered, "you on your own?..."

Robin shrank back from him, but the guy's large hand was at his back, preventing him from sliding off his lap.

"No, I'm not," he replied angrily, forcefully pushing the guy's hand away as he started to stroke his spiky black hair; he didn't care how the man interpreted his statement.

"Not, you aren't alone…" the guy agreed, his voice slurred. "You can be with _me_ now…"

Again Robin shivered.

"No, I don't think you under-"

He abruptly cut himself off as he felt the guy's hand brush between his thighs.

"_Nice_…" the man mumbled, a stupid grin plastered on his face.

Furious, Robin was about to deck him, but was prevented from doing so as the man suddenly pressed him to his vast chest with one powerful arm. As he struggled against the strong grip he distinctly heard a zip going – the guy was unzipping his fly…

"Now _you_ can do something nice for _me_…" The man slurred, making a weird, soft giggling sound.

Wildly, Robin reached behind him to the table the guy was sitting at and his hand came into contact with an empty heavy glass beer tankard. His fingers closed around the thick glass handle, the body of the glass being pressed against his knuckles. He swung it upwards as hard as he could, using it as a very effective knuckleduster to punch the guy in the side of the face. The whole chair toppled backwards with the impact of the blow, sending Robin sprawling on top of the man. The guy was unconscious, lying on the floor of the club with three teeth knocked out, his jaw streaming blood and his trousers unzipped.

Still shaking slightly, Robin untangled himself, letting go of the heavy glass. A few people in the vicinity looked down at the scene, but nobody inquired what had happened; nobody even seemed to _care_.

Nobody batted an eyelash as Robin staggered on through the crowd, shivering and rubbing his knuckles where the impact of the glass against them had bruised them. That had been _way_ too close for comfort…

"No way!"

Robin jumped as he heard a loud voice that he recognised all too well sounding shrilly behind him. Before he could turn, however, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and roughly whipped around. Just as he had suspected, a livid, fifteen-year-older Johnny Rancid was the culprit.

"Okay, Bird-boy," the biker hissed, his face inches from Robin's own. "Would you like to explain to me _how_, even _fifteen_ years on from the day the Teen Titans apparently died… you are _still_ Bird-_BOY?!_"

"Long story," Robin replied, smirking deeply. "But I don't think that tiny brain of yours could grasp it."

Johnny grinned, advertising his yellowed teeth.

"Still got that smart-ass mouth on you, I see," he sneered. "Everything's changed around here, Bird-boy – everything except _you_." His horrible grin widened, reminding Robin of the Joker. "Guess you'll just never grow out of being a _stupid little kid_, huh?"

Robin grasped Johnny's wrists where he held him by the back of his jacket and snapped them back. Johnny roared in pain and released him, where he then proceeded to rub them vigorously, swearing and spitting under his breath.

"This "stupid little kid" can still kick your butt, Johnny," Robin warned, straightening up. "And you _know_ that."

"Yeah, I do." Johnny didn't seem in the least bit reluctant to admit it. "But I get my kicks another way these days, stupid little birdie."

Robin snorted.

"Yeah, I can imagine…"

"Perhaps you'd like to take me up on it, then…"

Johnny folded his vast arms, still grinning.

Robin cocked his head, confused.

"Take you up on _what?_"

For the first time he realised that Johnny had friends with him – five or six other guys were clustered behind him, all as big, ugly and leather-clad as Johnny Rancid himself. Some of them were swaying, obviously severely drunk, and behind them again was their table – on it were so many empty beer tankards they were impossible to count. Johnny, however, seemed stone-cold sober.

"My little challenge," Johnny went on, smirking now. "Nearly everybody in this club has taken me on at some time or other. And… I've beaten every single one of them."

"Oh?" Robin felt his interest piquing at that.

So, _nobody_ had ever beaten him, huh? Then perhaps it wasn't fluke that Robin had ended up in this future after all…

"Fine, Johnny," he decided. "I'll do your little challenge."

"Excellent." Johnny seemed pleased.

He turned to his friends, snapping his fingers.

"Set the glasses up," he ordered briskly. "Five shots of 5-X liquor…"

Robin blinked; had he heard that right?...

Was Johnny's challenge… a _drinking_ competition?... He had assumed it was some kind of fighting challenge, in which he would have thrashed Johnny in less than a minute. But _drinking_… he had never drank in his _life_. There was _no way_ he would be able to handle the amount of alcohol that Johnny would be able to…

But he couldn't back down now, especially as it was a challenge set by, after Slade, his _other_ arch-nemesis…

Before he could even decide what to do, two of Johnny's robust friends took him by each shoulder and shoved him over to the table, forcing him into the chair opposite Johnny, who was already seated.

In front of him, in a neat row, Robin found five tiny shot glasses, each almost full to the brim with amber liquid.

Not iced tea; not even root beer, both of which were a similar colour.

_Liquor_.

"First one to collapse loses," Johnny explained abruptly. "That's pretty much all there is to it."

Robin nodded, feeling weak inside.

"Well, good luck, Bird-boy," Johnny sneered, raising one of his tiny glasses. "Remember, I don't _blame_ you for being a stupid little kid…"

He knocked it back as easily as if it was water, not the incredibly powerful alcoholic drink that it was. He slammed down the little glass and rested his head in his hands, waiting.

_**How** do I get myself into these things?..._

Robin gingerly picked up his own first little glass amid the undivided attention of Johnny and his equally-freaky friends; he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tipped his head back and downed it-

At once he got the feeling of being cracked over the head with a frying pan; he was vaguely aware that he had slid out of his chair before everything went completely black.

* * *

I do not apologise for Robin's homophobia. I have explained it before. Deal with it.

Personally I have nothing against gays. Don't believe me, go read some of my fics; _Winner Take All_, _Pure Poison_, _Nor Would It Be The Last_, _Ultimately_ and _Get Over Yourself_ to name but a few. Plus there's always the infamous co-written endeavour known as _Small Print_… I support slash, but this fic is _anything_ but slash, sooooooooooooo…

Sorry about that.

Second; don't worry, Kitten doesn't show up again. It was originally gonna be Jinx, but… it turned out as Kitten. Doesn't make any difference, to be honest. Johnny Rancid doesn't show up again either. Wow, that is actually the third time I have written him. That's quite impressive on Johnny's part, since I don't actually like him very much. There are other villains that I _adore_, like Mad Mod and Red X, whom I have never written at all…

Drinking competition. Ehh… seemed like a good idea at the time. I wrote this chapter originally in Summer 2005. It's old. Don't nitpick too much… It _has_ got a relevance to it – sort of…

Next chapter: another detour away from the boringness of this future blahblahblah. It's a brand new chapter I wrote just the other night, to be slotted in between this chapter and the one that technically should come directly after it. I'm not saying anything about it but I am really proud of how it came out and I think you will like it…

But that is next time. Let's talk about this time.

See that purple button…?

I knew you would.

RobinRocks xXx


	15. Out of Control

Okay, this is a brand new chapter I wrote just the other week to be slotted in here – partly because the whole future thing is a little over-done and frankly gets boring. It really starts to pick up next chapter, but for now, I thought I'd give you this – a special Terra-centric chapter. No, don't groan if you don't like her. This doesn't really show her in a good light; nor is it Terra-bashing. Works either way, to be honest. I just really wanted to write this and so here it is – could even work as a stand-alone one-shot in a lot of ways.

We return to the present day Jump City, which is, by now, in ruins. And we return to the present day version of the one who created it. This is _NOT_ a flashback to the past of the thirty-one year old Terra – this is actual present day Terra, back in the time that Robin _should_ be in but isn't.

Thankyou to: **Coolteenzz **(I'm afraid this isn't slash, my dear. And aww, you think I'm smart? Okay, well, I got an E in Psychology last year, but we'll keep that to ourselves. And that's okay about the video, take as long as you need); **Quinn and His Quill **(oh, you can bet on something _veeeeeeeery_ interesting, Quinn! And stop reading so much into things – some of the little things you point out are actually just errors or discontinuities I've admittedly made… O.o); **YamiTai **(yay, I am soooo glad you approve of Roy! I had a lot of fun writing him all that time ago… I am glad you're enjoying this story as much as ever because it gets better! I know that sounds arrogant but I am so proud with how I ended this fic… I think you will like it too, all of you…); **TheLon3Wolf8986 **(what will Robin do when he gets back to his own time? He's got to sort _this_ time first, dude!); **Guardian of Azarath **(um, disturbing? Please tell me that's a good thing… O.o); **TheFallenAngel67 **(hey, come on, this isn't an English class. If you write something wrong in a review I'm not gonna make you rewrite it a thousand times. On the other hand… that would _really_ rack up my review count… Glad you liked it, anyway!); **Me **(hey, quit licking my screen! RoyxTerra? Maybe, maybe not… XD);** Kami-Elf **(I don't know if I would ever call Robin "ignorant" as such, at least not most of the time, but he definitely is arrogant when it suits him… As for Roy – yeah, a lot of people pointed out he's a little different. He is, but he's had a hard fifteen years back there… Give the guy a break! O.o Just kidding – thanks for the review); **LoopyLouise123 **(aw, yeah, well, he's a _Teen_ Titan, after all. You ain't Batman yet, kid! Robin would completely get his ass kicked and handed to him in a drinking contest – as depicted here… You're the ONLY one who mentioned Lex Luthor in your review, BTW!); **Simmie **(Robin should be careful passing out _anywhere_, dude! Pass out and you're gonna get molested by fangirls/Slade/both. But that's Robin for you…); **Narroch **(wow, uber-long scary review… Let's be honest – Kitten just SCREAMS pole-dancer. And yeah, I just didn't want to be repeating everything I already did with Terra and Robin – boring for you to read and boring for me to write. And maybe he's OOC but… This is Roy. He was on drugs. Let's just use that excuse… And you're on a boozing team? Tee hee. Anyway… let's not forget you're micro-chipped now, so if you DON'T go back in the cage…); and **CrazyInsomniac **(with your cheap-ass two-for-one review on _Nevarmore_. I'm just kidding, I'm glad you enjoyed both!).

Other peoples who may show at some point: **Athena's Wings, Raven Victoria Grayson, Poison's Ivy, **and maybe some day older reviewers like **Daybreak25, Rocky-White Wolf of Curses, Seductive Angel**…

Rawr, what did I _do_? O.o

And so, to Terra; who, as we all know, is…

Out of Control

_Jump City, the present – _

Terra wasn't so sure about it all anymore.

She had never been _one hundred percent_ sure – about going with Slade, as it were.

It had cost her a lot; _pained_ her a lot to throw away the life she might have had.

The night she had run from them – from Titans Tower – she had run from acceptance and friendship. They had offered to take her in, offered her a place on the team.

Terra had never been offered anything like that before.

Slade, he offered her all that too. Belonging. Purpose. Not for same reasons, of course; Slade had only been interested using her incredible power for his own gains.

But he had offered her a place at his side – one that she had been grateful for.

Each of them had offered a different fringe benefit, however.

The Titans – and _one_ Titan in particular – had offered her _love_.

Slade had offered her control.

She had taken control over love.

At first she had not regretted it; not while Slade had trained her. Control was something that Terra had always craved and never had; like a child at a toy shop window at Christmas.

Something beyond the glass.

When Slade had taken it out from behind the window and presented it to her in his palm, she had not hesitated to take it; and she had not regretted it.

Even her part of the bargain. Destroy the Titans. Trick and betray them.

"_I will."_

That was what she had said.

Without hesitation.

But now…

Now she was faced with the realisation of what _her_ part of the bargain had wrought.

And it frightened her.

Now, Terra did not feel corrupted hatred towards those who had once been her friends. She did not feel anger at the world. She did not feel proud to be at Slade's side.

She looked out over what, a mere day ago, had been a prosperous, vibrant city.

And she felt _regret_.

Oh, Terra had found her place in the world.

_Amidst the ruins._

Yesterday, the Teen Titans had died. Overload had electrocuted them to death.

Robin…

He had survived it.

Somehow.

Terra had seen him. Hell, he had knocked her out. She had _felt_ him.

When she had awoken, he was long gone.

Since then, she, Cinderblock, Overload, Plasmus and unit upon unit of Slade's commandos had been set the task of tearing the city apart to find him.

So far, there wasn't a trace of him.

Slade didn't care. He didn't care how much he destroyed. He didn't care if he tore the entire city to the ground.

They had to find Robin.

Dead.

Alive.

Slade didn't care.

The only thing he cared about was his prophecy. Fulfilling it. Getting that power.

And to get it, Robin had to die.

That was all Slade cared about.

Terra was exhausted. She hadn't slept in well over twenty four hours, because Slade had not allowed her to rest.

_Get out there and find him, and do not stop until you do_. Those had been her orders.

Cinderblock, Plasmus and Overload; they were not human. They didn't need the things Terra needed. Food. Sleep.

They weren't collapsed in a back alley, asking themselves _why_.

She had triggered a few minor earthquakes. Buildings had cracked, slanted. A few of the smaller ones had collapsed.

Then she had triggered a bigger one.

And the city had snapped in half.

It was in ruins.

She did not stop to wonder about the death toll. It _hurt_ too much.

All over Jump City, innocent citizens – homeless, hurt, despairing – crept among the ruins, either mourning or still searching for loved ones. Flooded streets, courtesy of cracked water pipes, and broken electrical wires combined to make just walking down one of the demolished streets a dangerous endeavour. Closing fissures, gas leaks, fires…

If the _earthquake_ hadn't killed them…

Terra had always known she was weak. Weak in control, weak in self-discipline and weak in will.

Perhaps she had believed that Slade – as strong as he was; because _yes_, there was no denying that _Slade_ was strong – would strengthen her too. Perhaps she had hoped to feed off him, take his strength as her own.

And for a little while – as he _taught_ her to control her powers – it had seemed to her that this was so. Surely Slade, as evil and twisted and selfish as he was, could only _help_ her? _Save_ her? Surely someone as strong as he could never fail her?

In his promise to teach her control, Slade most certainly did not fail.

In her promise to _save_ her, he most certainly _did_.

Control, which she had taken over love, had its price.

And Terra paid it in full.

Her _tears_ were that price, streaming down her face as she almost threw herself up against the wall of the back alley, her hands in her dirty tangled hair.

There was blood on her hands now – perhaps, under technical diminished responsibility, she had not the blood of the _Titans_ on her hands. No, _that_ had been Overload's doing.

Not the blood of her friends.

The blood of a _city_.

Terra slammed her fist against the wall and _screamed_ in despair.

As if on cue, Slade's voice made itself present in her ear.

"_Pick yourself up, young lady_," he hissed, more savage than the geomancer had ever heard him before. "There is still work to be done, and the night is young. You find that _wretched_ boy and you _kill_ him and you _bring his body to me_, do you understand?"

"_Y-yes_," Terra whispered, more tears breaking free through her lashes.

"Good." There was a click and Slade was gone.

Terra was tired and hungry and sore and bleeding and emotionally wrecked, but she did not dare lie down.

She did not dare disobey the man who had forced her to destroy; and who in turn had destroyed _her_.

So she got up; and dragged herself through the broken city.

Just as she had done for all those hours before.

**TT**

The outskirts of the city had not been quite so badly affected by the earthquake, which she had triggered while standing in the middle of Main Street.

Lights had blown, buildings had cracked and shifted, some collapsed, but it was not in complete ruin like the inner city.

People were shifting to and fro from buildings, scuttling like the frightened rats that scurried along the ground in swarms.

Rats have more sense than people.

On the verge of collapsing from thirst and hunger and fatigue, Terra located the doorway to an underground bar which had survived the earthquake due to its location. She stumbled down the metal steps and staggered through the door.

It was filled with people, clutching at each other and various belongings. The stench of sweat and fear was oppressive, hanging in the air. It suddenly made her feel very sick—

Clutching at a table for support, Terra vomited onto the floor.

Almost at once, several people surged forwards towards her.

"Poor child…"

"Sit down, dear…"

She was hauled upright and pushed into a chair as she panted and gasped for breath. Terra desperately tried to shake them off, but was too weak, and her protests were lost.

"Water… please…" she managed to gasp out.

A few seconds later a sloppily poured glass of water was pushed into her hand. Terra managed to drink most of it down as a woman of around fifty supported her back. The glass was taken from her when she had drained it and she gasped, shaking her head.

"Is that better, hon?" Another woman asked; she was African American, somewhere in her forties, with a little boy clinging to her hand.

Terra nodded shakily, sitting up properly and looking around the bar. Mothers were comforting crying children, holding back tears of their own, while others were desperately punching numbers into their cell phones, trying to get through to loved ones through downed lines. There were several little kids, Terra noticed, on their own; and another little boy was bawling loudly, clutching the half-mangled corpse of a dead cat. There were a few living dogs and cats in here too – their fur dusty, their eyes wild. A young man in what had once been a sharply-tailored business suit sat in a chair not too far from Terra, holding a wad of tissue to a rapidly-bleeding wound on his forehead; his glasses were broken and half hanging off his face.

Terra looked around at them all in horror, physically feeling the disgust at what she had done beginning to boil and bubble inside her. She felt like she might vomit again but there was nothing to bring up.

She lowered her face into her hands; but her eyes burned, dry and traitorous.

_Just like her_.

Silence fell but for the tears of children. It was the silence of fear, of horror, of shock.

The silence of death.

Then a tugging came at her sleeve.

Terra looked up through her curtain of tangled, filthy hair at the little black boy who had pulled away from his mother. He was around nine years old, she guessed, dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt that were now torn and dusty. His big brown eyes were filled with fear and confusion; but also a certain conviction.

"Say, lady…" He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. "Weren't you one of the Teen Titans? I swear I saw you on TV with 'em…"

Terra looked away, a lump the size of an apple forming itself in her throat.

"That was… a while ago…" She managed to choke it out.

"But where _are_ they?" The little boy wanted to know. "Where _are_ the Titans? They're heroes, they're supposed to save us an' stuff… Why didn't they _save_ us?"

Tears welled in the little boy's eyes.

"Why didn't they… save my _daddy_?" He choked out, his face crinkling as he started to cry.

"Kyle… _Kyle_…" His mother pulled him away as Terra looked him, her eyes wide, her breath barely coming to her.

The woman picked her son up in her arms and rocked him as he sobbed. There were traces of tears in her own eyes.

Aghast, Terra's face went back into her hands. The feeling inside her was indescribable – a pain, the existence of which she could _never_ have comprehended before now. A pain that twisted into deeper and deeper into her, searing and scraping beneath her skin and making it prickle with an icy chill she had never felt before, even on the very coldest of nights. A corkscrew of sheer inner turmoil and torment that gouged deep into her gut.

She did not deny even for a moment that she deserved it; and indeed, she was even partly _glad_ she could feel the agony that she felt as she looked around at the consequences of her terrible, terrible actions.

It meant that she was _human_.

Slade, who sat in his chair in his lair pounding and clenching his fists, felt nothing at all.

He was no man.

He was a monster.

Unfortunately, it was too late for _her_ to be anything but a monster now too.

This was what she had done. _This_ was what she had _created_.

Where _were_ the Titans? Where _were_ the saviours? Oh, _she_ knew – six feet under, like half of the city's population. The heroes wouldn't be saving anyone today.

Or indeed _ever again_.

And yes, she _had_ been one of them, hadn't she? Once at their side, once reflected in the glory of them. The sixth Titan – the third female to balance it all up.

It had all been so _perfect_, right?

But of course Terra had fucked _that_ all up too, the way she did everything _else_.

She could have had so much, and instead she threw it all away for…

…well, control.

But _control_?

Yes, she was controlling her powers now. But _Slade_ was controlling _her_. She had craved control to _stop_ herself from hurting people – to _stop_ all the pain of causing accidental mudslides and earthquakes and killing innocent people.

What had been the price of that control?

_Kill your friends. Destroy the city._

Running in one big circle.

Terra was a fuck-up; and she knew it _now_ more than ever.

She lurched up from her seat, tears blinding her as she started to stagger away back towards the staircase. She couldn't stay here. It was cowardly to run from the realisation – the _example_ – of what she had done, she knew that.

But she _couldn't stay_.

"Wait a second, sweetheart." Someone grabbed her upper arm, preventing her escape. "What has happened? Where _are_ the Teen Titans? Are you… the only one _left_?"

"Yes, _yes_!" Terra screeched, wrenching away from the man who had grasped her arm. "_I can't stay here_…!"

She pushed and squirmed hurriedly through the crowd of people, near frantic. Halfway up the staircase she was grabbed again by another man; he was tall, African-American, in a ripped and battered JCPD uniform.

"Don't go back out there," he said calmly. "Stay down here where you're safe. Calm down, now."

"_NO_!" Terra screamed, turning on him with eyes blazing fiery gold. He let her go and shrank back from her, horror-struck.

Her control slipping a little, a few chunks of rock, accompanied by dust, shook themselves loose from the ceiling. People screamed and clutched at each other.

Fresh tears streaming down her face, Terra turned and fled.

She was sure no-one had been killed down there (_no-one else_) but she ran and ran and ran from the place. It was most certainly a blessing she was much too tired and hungry and weak to employ her powers properly…

Pausing to get her breath, Terra collapsed to her knees on a dusty and deserted cracked sidewalk, her tears sluicing clear tracks through the dirt on her face.

Slade's voice became apparent in her ear again – a snake slithering in her ear.

"Terra, my patience with you begins to wear thin."

"He's not here," Terra replied despairingly. "There's _four_ of us out here, Slade, and _none_ of us have found him!"

"_Then you're not looking hard enough!_" Slade screamed at her in reply; the earpiece crackled and sparked in her ear, making her cry out.

"Unless…" His voice suddenly softened and calmed again as Terra whimpered and sobbed softly. "…He has gone to Gotham. Perhaps returned to the Bat. _Yes_…"

"I won't—"

"Terra!" Slade snapped, cutting her off; "I'm changing your co-ordinates. Take yourself to Gotham and trigger a .9 earthquake. When the city is as broken as this one, I will send Cinderblock, Overload and Plasmus to begin strip-searching the level."

Terra was silent for a moment or two; her shoulders shaking and her eyes burning.

"_No_," she said finally. "No, I _won't_."

"I beg your pardon, young lady?" Slade sounded both furious and even a little surprised. "Did you just say what I _think_ you said?"

"What do you think I said?" Terra hissed in reply, beginning to dislodge the earpiece.

"I _think_," Slade murmured dangerously, "that you just threatened to _disobey_ a direct order."

"Then you were right."

Slade laughed a little on the other side of the line.

"I can have you destroyed, Terra, if you betray me. I'll have you hunted down and punished for your disobedience."

"Destroy me then," Terra whispered. "You've practically done it already…"

"You _chose_ this life, Terra."

"And now I'm _un_-choosing it."

"Terra, don't you _dare_—"

"_I won't destroy any more lives!_" Terra screamed, wrenching the thing out of her ear completely. "_Leave me alone!_"

She stamped the earpiece into the ground.

And then she turned her back on her teacher.

Too bad that her teacher was the kind who would attack when his opponent's back was turned…

**TT**

Her footsteps echoed as she cautiously stepped into the main hallway of Titans Tower. The front doors had been ripped off, leaving a gaping hole that led into a dark dusty abyss.

Once, she had called this place "home".

She tread carefully through it, squinting against the darkness that had rested in the stead of light with the setting of the sun. The place was in utter ruin – her earthquakes had not affected it, but Slade's commando units had done their job well. Walls were shattered, rubble littered the floor, every screen and window she came across had been smashed in, curtains had been torn down, furniture wrecked, objects of every kind broken on the floor – books, cutlery, CDs, personal belongings…

The floor was also littered with the "carcasses" of almost the entire commando squad, some still sparking even now – the aftermath of Robin's "dealing with them".

Wordlessly, Terra drifted through the destroyed tower, ascending higher – the main stairwell was blocked off by a wall that had caved in, but the geomancer had no trouble shifting it, paving her own way through.

This place had been a symbol – this "T", standing proudly on its island. A sign of virtue and hope. Something which the citizens of Jump City could take comfort in when they woke up every morning and looked out of their windows across the bay; or as they drove home at night, seeing it silhouetted against the orange sky.

The reassurance that they had _heroes_ who would _save_ them.

And what now?

Terra had helped Slade to destroy all that. That symbol. Everything.

The Teen Titans were gone; and there was no city to protect now either.

Nothing but a shell of all that had been. A broken city and a broken tower to go with it.

And nothing but a shell of all that _she_ had been too.

She forced back the panel to Robin's bedroom and stepped inside, looking around. She had not expected him to be in here – and true to her expectations, there was no sign of him whatsoever.

And truthfully, what would she have _done_ if she _had_ found him? Killed him? Warned him? Helped him?

Looking down at the floor – littered again with various broken belongings of his, courtesy of Slade's troops – she found one of his uniforms, a little torn, next to her foot. She picked it up, holding it by one sleeve.

This was it. Another symbol. What was Robin _but_ a symbol? Always a symbol of righteousness, of justice, of good and hope and virtue. The hero image. First as Batman's sidekick and then as leader of the Teen Titans and then further still as this "Avenger" – one born to wear the mantle of a saviour.

_("Street thief? Drug ring? Apocalypse? No problem – here's my card. 0775-800-Save-the-day…")_

Terra threw the uniform aside as she left his trashed bedroom. Well, Hero-Boy was a fugitive now, and when Slade caught him…

Not that she was going to _help_ Slade catch Hero-Boy. Screw Slade. She was _done_ with him. She was done with it _all_.

She found herself in her _own_ room. Standing amidst the ruin of it – part new, and part the way it had been left following her betrayal of them.

All ruin she had brought about herself.

_Still, what's new there…?_ Terra thought bitterly.

She crossed the floor, her feet lifting dust, making for the torn couch in the middle of the room. Sinking heavily onto it, the geomancer reached across to the broken coffee table and caught up the slightly battered silver heart-shaped box Beast Boy had made for her.

She pulled off one of her torn gloves to run her bare fingers over the surface of it; as though straining to physically _feel_ the love and care that had gone into the creation of it.

Her eyes beginning to sting, she flipped up the lid, finding herself manifested there upon the glass inside.

She grimaced. She had never seen herself looking so bad; even when she had been a homeless drifter, crashing in caves, as she had been when she first met the Teen Titans.

Her hair – dirty, tangled and all across her face – badly needed attention, her face was haggard and pale, with dark circles beneath her eyes, her lips were dry and cracked; she was covered in smudges of dirt and dust, her black crop top was worse for wear, hanging off one shoulder, her skin sported several nicks and scratches and bruises…

Not much of a look for the apprentice of the man who had as good as taken over the city; and soon the surrounding cities, the entire USA, and then, from there, no doubt the whole world…

Oh, as if it even _mattered_ what she _looked_ like, when she had just—

Terra angrily threw the box at the wall, where the mirror cracked and shattered upon impact. She rose abruptly and went to the window, whereupon she reached under the sill, searching for—

Yes, it was still there.

She slipped the tiny square photograph out from where she had concealed it in a crack beneath the sill, looking at it intently as more tears blossomed in her eyes and slid down her face.

On the back of it, scrawled on the white, in Beast Boy's untidy spidery hand, was;

_You and me forever, BB XXX_

Her heart aching, she turned it over, wiping the grime off it with her thumb.

The photograph was a little one, bigger than a passport shot but smaller than a regular one. It was of Terra herself and Beast Boy, obviously both as Teen Titans – the green changeling had one arm around Terra's waist, his other flung forward, shoving a "V for Victory" sign right at the camera. His eyes were squeezed shut in bliss and there was a huge grin plastered on his green face. Terra was in the same black crop top and tan shorts she wore now – the uniform of her time with the Titans – her long blonde hair straight and fine and clean and silky, not the mess it was now. She was smiling serenely at the camera, which was actually unusual because as a rule Terra and Beast Boy had had competitions to see who could pull the most hideous face for the photo. But the smile in this photo was calm and genuine, as though, at that exact moment, she was truly indisputably happy to be there with Beast Boy's arm around her.

And she _had_ been.

She _remembered_.

Remembered the Titans; remembered her time and life as one of them.

And she cried.

Her tears blinded her from the shadow that fell forebodingly across her.

Terra felt his presence too late, whipping around to—

Slade smacked her straight in the face, knocking her against the wall. She hit it with a sharp cry, the photograph falling from her fingers. He stepped on it as he closed in on her, deliberately pressing his weight on it.

"_You little bitch_," he hissed, reaching down and taking a handful of her blonde hair. "You think you can just run away after you swore an _oath_ you would fight at my side?"

She uttered another pained cry as he tossed her across the room to tumble to a halt against the back of the couch.

She had neither the strength nor the will to fight him. Nothing mattered to her anymore; she didn't even care if he _killed_ her…

Slade crouched down to her level as she struggled to pull herself upright.

"I _want_ him, Terra," he whispered. "Robin. The Avenger. I will not rest until I have him, and so neither will you. You will bring me his head or his heart or the _whole_ of him, still _alive_ even, so that I may have the pleasure of killing him myself, but I swear to you… I _want_ him, and you are going to _find_ him, if it is the last thing you ever do, _do you hear me_?"

"_He's not out there_!" Terra screamed despairingly. "I've looked, we've _all_ looked… He's not there, Slade!"

"Oh yes, I do know…" He grasped his apprentice's throat in fury. "I gave you an order to destroy Gotham, which you disobeyed. You speak of nobility, Terra – you say that you will destroy no more lives. A fine deed, but far too late, my girl. There is nothing for you now. Nothing at all. You have the blood of a thousand innocents on your hands. Who else will take you? What else is _left_ for you but _this_? This life you _chose_?"

"_Anything_!" Terra yelled, wrenching away from him. "I don't want this, I _never_ wanted this! I never wanted these powers, I never wanted to be a hero or a villain or _whatever the fuck else there is_! I'm sick of it all. I don't care what you do to me. Kill me if you want…"

"There are worse fates than _death_, Terra."

"Yes." Terra held out her shaking hands, tears steadily streaming down her face. "And _this_ is it."

"But you _chose_ this, Terra. You chose this "fate worse than death". _You chose me_."

"_Control over love_…" Terra whispered brokenly.

Slade reached down to her.

"Come with me, Terra. Come with your master. We have much to do…"

Terra shrank from him, sobbing.

"I won't kill anyone else! I have seen it out there – I have seen the victims of the horror I have inflicted on this city! I won't do it again!"

"You have not left yourself much of a choice anymore, apprentice—"

With an enraged scream, Terra ploughed a slab of rubble from the bedroom floor into Slade, slamming him against the wall.

"_I won't be your slave_!" She cried furiously. "I won't do these horrible things for you anymore!"

Winded, Slade managed a soft laugh.

"Then what _will_ you do, Terra?" He hissed. "_Kill_ me…?"

Terra panted hard for a second or two, her eyes blazing gold.

And then, finally, her hold over the piece of concrete relinquished, and she dropped it heavily to the floor again, releasing Slade.

He dusted himself down nonchalantly as she turned away, clutching at herself tightly as her shoulders shook. When he was satisfied, he grabbed her shoulder, making her gasp and start.

He forced her to turn around, taking both of her shoulders firmly in his strong grip; seeing himself reflecting in her wide, frightened blue eyes.

For a long moment there was silence. Then;

"I have a new uniform for you. _This_…" He tugged at a strip of the black material hanging off her shoulder. "This simply won't do _at all_, not for _my_ apprentice…"

Terra couldn't utter even a sound.

After a long, hard, silent moment, she simply bowed her head.

A few tears hit the dirty carpet; and that was her answer.

Slade touched her chin, lifting her dirty, pretty face.

"That's my good girl…"

So she went with him; and she put on her new uniform, and she fought at his side, and she _destroyed_.

Maybe she fulfilled the destiny that had been written for her.

Maybe not.

Terra was no longer out of control, that was for sure.

Because she was too far under _his_.

_**TT**_

Sorry, the lines aren't working…

Wow, well… You can probably tell it is more modern that the previous chapter/s. I like it. I really do.

It made me quite sad to write – about the city and its civilians, I mean. Because earthquakes and other natural disasters do actually _do_ these things to people. Look at Hurricane Katrina, Rita, and the 2005 Asian Tsunami as examples.

The important thing to remember is that Terra is a very weak character. Always was, always will be. And so Slade, who preys on weakness, walks all over her time and time again.

Next chapter: Back to the future we go! And STUFF happens! Actual stuff!

Yay!

The boringness/filler shall soon be at an end!

- RobinRocks xXx


	16. Memories in Black and White

Well, it is officially the February Half Term here in the UK – yay, a whole week off school! But there's _more_ to this particular half term, which is why I chose to mention it.

Three years ago, in the February half term of 2004, I started writing a story called _Lost in Ecstasy _– a.k.a my very first ever _Teen Titans_ fan fiction. The title is a line from Tara's _Under Your Spell_ song from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Once More With Feeling_, while the actual storyline of the fic, since I had seen only Season One of _Teen Titans _on UK Carton Network, therefore embraced a great deal of conventions from the terrible, terrible _Batman and Robin_ (I had just gotten into _Batman_ via _Teen Titans_ and actually thought it was good – well, I was young…), using an Uma Thurman-esque Poison Ivy (if I rewrote it I would definitely stick to the _Batman: TAS_ version) as my villain. It also chronicled a very wobbly relationship between Robin and Raven – when I say wobbly I mean that pretty much I didn't write it properly. It was OOC. Also interesting to note is that when I stared writing that story I had never even _heard_ of fanfictionnet, and bless my little 15-year-old self… I thought I was the first ever person to come up with the RobinxRaven pairing… How _wrong_ was I…

Well, three years on, and I've come a long way. Apart from the additional 50-odd fics under my belt (both one-shots and additional long fics to the _Lost in Ecstasy_ continuity such as _Black Magic_ and this), the wacked co-writing endeavours between Narroch and myself including the infamous _Small Print_, the amazing accompanying music videos people have made in conjunction with either my own fics or co-written ones, and all the really cool people I've met and all the amazing stories I've read on here…

I've since discovered that _Batman and Robin_ is utter crap. Yay for me! Best _Batman_ movie for me has to be Burton's _Batman Returns_; although _Batman: TAS_ is indisputably the definitive Batman. _The Batman_ – don't get me started…

And of course, _Teen Titans_. (Over) three years it has lasted in my heart… It's officially my longest obsession ever! _Dragonball Z_ was about two months off the three year mark…

Wow, I need a hobby. O.o

Ugh, now that I've talked so much, thankyous will have to be at the bottom.

But yes, as a celebration for my three year mark, there's a nod to Tim Burton's _Batman_ in this chapter. You'll notice it, trust me…

Ooh, and I saw _Wicked_ on the weekend in London's West End! It was pretty…

…well, _wicked_.

Memories in Black and White

Darkness. Intolerable heat. Dizziness.

Robin opened his eyes, his breath coming in taxed gasps. His face was dripping with cold water, his Lycra t-shirt clung to his sweaty chest, and his head was pounding terribly, as though there was someone playing a drum solo right inside his skull.

"Oh, thank god… Roy, he's come round…"

Terra.

Robin looked up, finding that his head was resting in Terra's lap; the earth-mover was leaning over him, her expression extremely concerned and her sheet of thick blonde hair curtaining around her face. He sat up, shivering uncontrollably even though he felt far from cold. His head was aching fit to burst, and he moaned and put his hands to his temples as he felt one of Terra's hands go to his back.

"Where am I?..." He moaned, closing his aching eyes and curling up against Terra's chest.

She put her arms around him and rocked him slightly, easing the nauseous feeling that was consuming his consciousness.

"Safe," she whispered. "You're okay now…"

He moaned again, shivering and curled up in her lap. He only barely noticed that he was no longer wearing his leather jacket.

"Here."

He heard Roy Harper's voice now, but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. Instead Terra gently took the glass of icy water from Roy's hand, holding Robin's quivering form to her with her free arm.

"Come on, Robin," Terra coaxed soothingly. "Drink this; it'll help…"

Robin clutched more tightly at her, but ventured up to take a look at what was being offered to him. He clumsily reached for the glass and Roy pressed it into his hand, whereupon he drank it greedily, slopping half of it down his front.

It did help a little, easing his aching head, making his fuzzy consciousness slightly clearer. Roy took the empty glass back and set it down on the floor next to where he was sitting cross-legged facing Terra.

"Where am I?" Robin asked again, feeling better now.

"My place," Roy answered. "My pad above the bar. I used to share it with Garth, before… _well_…"

Robin nodded in understanding, easing himself back from where he was curled up in Terra's lap. He fell back into a sitting position and looked dazedly around, still quivering a little.

It was a nice place, quite large, with burgundy painted walls and red carpet, but it looked as though it had seen better days; certainly it had been abandoned when Roy and Garth had moved in. Everything was all in the one room, with one small closet as the only adjoining room; the bed, sunken with quite a few broken springs, was in one corner, while a cracked black leather sofa resided in the middle of the room. Again there was a home-made stone grate in place of a central heating system, an orange fire roaring within it, giving heat to the otherwise-freezing room. And at the furthest end of the room… was a vast glass tank, empty, with a similarly empty oxygen pump lying inside it. But this tank was not only a sad memory of the man known to his friends as Garth – or Aqualad, as Robin knew him, or even Pallais; it seemed to have become a shrine to _all_ of the members, both dead and still living, of Batman's Titans.

There were photographs stuck all over it, but Robin couldn't see them too well from here. He struggled to his feet, still weak and dizzy, and made his way over to it. Terra and Roy exchanged glances, then swiftly rose and followed him.

Robin reached the tank, Terra and Roy coming to his side moments later. There were all sorts of photographs, even whole group ones of the entire team together. There was one of Harley and Ivy, the former with her arms flung around the latter, hugging her green friend tightly to her form blissfully; the green friend in question didn't look very enamoured. There was one of Barbara Gordon, looking fabulous in the tight Batgirl uniform Robin recognised from the case in the BatCave, giving a "friendly" noogie to a young black-haired boy in a red and black Robin uniform that the current Robin assumed to be Tim Drake. There was one of Bruce and Clark out of uniform, Clark with a powerful arm slung around Bruce's shoulders, Bruce wearing a faint smile that looked somewhat forced. There was one of Roy – in a red and gold uniform which Robin supposed was the heritage of Arsenal – with his arms around Terra, who looked a bit wary of the redhead's smug expression. There was another of Bruce in uniform but with the cowl down, an extremely bored expression on his face and Talia on one side of him, Catwoman on the other. _This_ photograph had certainly been taken on candid camera, as Catwoman was actually scratching at Talia's face, while Ra's al Ghul's beauteous daughter was behind Bruce's strong form, a look of contempt on her long dark face.

Robin ran his gaze over them still, searching for a picture of his older self. He soon found some, near the top of the glass case; there was one of Nightwing with his arms around the slight form of Batgirl, who was gazing lovingly up into his masked eyes. There was another of his older self sandwiched in between Roy and Garth – Robin recognised the older version of Aqualad right away – on what appeared to be Roy's black leather sofa, his arms slung over each of their shoulders, and yet another of himself and Bruce both out of uniform. His older self didn't wear his mask 24-7, Robin noted as he gazed at the older incarnation of himself; very tall and strong, with a longer, thinner-shaped face than he had now, and flowing ebony hair that fell halfway down his back, not forgetting the brilliant blue eyes that contrasted against the black t-shirt and blue jeans combo he was wearing.

And in _this_ photograph, the smile on Bruce Wayne's face was genuine.

"Some of these are seriously old," Terra said softly from behind him.

Robin nodded vaguely, noticing something;

"There aren't any with Two-Face in them," he pointed out, turning to Roy and Terra.

Roy snorted with hidden laughter.

"With a mug like that-"

Terra elbowed him sharply, interrupting him.

"Harvey was… well, let's call him "camera-shy", shall we? Basically, he hated being photographed – he had a bit of an inferiority complex because of his face. Once you got used to it, it didn't bother any of us. But I think it still bothered poor Harvey."

"He used to be really handsome, you know," Robin said vaguely. "I can remember him before he was ever Two-Face, because he was Bruce's friend. He always used to turn up at Wayne Manor with his girlfriend Marian in tow and Bruce was always genuinely pleased to see him, 'cause I think Bruce used to fake being happy to see most people. Maybe it was 'cause Harvey was the only honest lawyer in Gotham – he was Gotham's DA – but Bruce would crack open the sherry and just sit and talk to them all night, but me an' Alfred would get bored so we used to slope off to the library and sit in the stacks and read…"

"Yeah, Harvey was lovely," Terra mused. "You know, after Bruce superglued his coin to the floor. He just used to act like Harvey Dent, except for his annoying obsession with the number two. I mean, if something wasn't in a pair, Harvey practically hyperventilated over it."

"He liked _taking_ photographs," Roy chipped in mildly. "Almost every single one of those photographs was taken by Harvey. He used to develop them himself in that weird solution stuff, and he was always so proud of them – he just never liked being _in_ them."

Robin nodded, his insides twisting at the melancholy and sadness laced within their voices. Somehow, he had to change this, alter this future by going back and altering his own past.

He had to resurrect the Teen Titans; or, more so, to prevent them from ever dying in the first place.

He turned to them, his head still not perfectly clear, wiping the sweat from his brow; he was still very hot, too, and slightly dizzy.

"What happened back there?" He asked firmly, looking from Roy to Terra and then back again.

Roy and Terra exchanged glances. Then;

"Johnny Rancid." They both said it together.

Robin raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know."

Terra raised both of her blonde eyebrows in response.

"_Do_ you, Robin?" She snorted. "I don't think you do, actually."

Robin was puzzled, but at that Roy placed a hand on Terra's shoulder.

"Terra, don't," he said mildly. "It wasn't his fault, we should have warned him about Rancid…"

Robin cocked his head.

"Warned me?... You knew Johnny was there? What, is he a regular or something?"

Roy smiled thinly.

"Something like that," he muttered darkly.

Robin shook his head.

"I don't understand…"

"Robin, somehow he got you to compete in his little "challenge", right?" Terra cut in.

Robin blinked.

"How do you-"

"Because he does it with everyone in that club," Terra interrupted again, sounding impatient. "Every single guy who has ever _been_ in that club has fallen victim to Johnny Rancid and his little gang at one time or another. Although frankly Robin, I thought _you_ would have had a bit more sense…"

"Okay, okay, I was dumb," Robin sighed. "I know, I shouldn't have done his stupid little drinking challenge, 'cause I obviously couldn't have even _hoped_ to beat him…"

Roy and Terra looked at one another, then turned back to him, shaking their heads simultaneously.

"No, you don't quite understand," Terra reinstated. "Look… Roy's right, it wasn't your fault – we should have warned you about Johnny Rancid – but I didn't think we'd be gone as long as we were; the place had really caved in, took me a while longer than I had hoped…"

"Do you remember what happened?" Roy pressed.

Robin frowned as he attempted to remember the chain of events right up until…

…Everything had gone black…

"I… I passed out, I think…" He wrinkled his nose as he concentrated harder. "I don't know, I can't really… um, I think I sat down at the table… Yeah, and then Johnny drank his first glass, so then it was my turn, but as soon as I drank mine it felt like I'd been hit over the head or something… I think I fell out of my chair, but I can't remember anything else."

Terra was nodding vaguely.

"But nothing after that?"

"No, I think I've already said that I passed out," Robin replied scathingly. "Unconscious people generally don't remember things that happen while they are unconscious; that's why they call it _un_conscious."

"Don't be smart, you little wise-ass," Terra spat irritably. "I don't think you realise the seriousness of what happened back there. You were in a very bad state, and-"

"Terra," Roy interrupted hurriedly, his voice hushed as he grasped hold of her upper arm. "Perhaps we shouldn't… just leave it, okay? He doesn't need to know…"

At that – hearing it even though Roy had intended for him not to – Robin immediately went on the alert.

"Tell me what?" He demanded sharply.

Roy stifled the swearword that involuntarily escaped his lips as best he could as he turned back from Terra to look at Robin, the expression on his handsome face pained.

"I… Robin, I'd really rather not… I think…" Roy floundered several times before Terra came to his rescue;

"Robin, Johnny's little gang is a prime example of the "scum" in Roy's club," she said, her tone clipped and final.

She smiled grimly as she visibly saw the colour drain from Robin's already ashen face. She felt sorry for him, knowing from years before, that day in the diamond mine, when he – or rather, the older, deceased version of her own time – had told her what Slade had done to him in Arkham Asylum, but she did not let any of that sympathy or pity creep into her hard voice. It was vital he understood what kind of new world – what kind of _terra nova_ – in which he now found himself, and if she allowed him to sob on her shoulder he would not understand the coldness, the hopelessness, of this newer Gotham City. Gotham had _always_ been a dank, creepy, rat-and-crime-infested hellhole, but now it was infested – and indeed, _ruled_ – by the biggest, most cruel, malicious and evil rat of all; Slade.

And under Slade's tyrannical rule of almost the entire USA – even though he preferred to work from Gotham, maybe because the city always had, and always _would_, cultivate despair and darkness – evil festered and terror prevailed. Slade had transformed the city into his work base, choosing it over the demolished, abandoned Jump, or the glossier, bigger, richer and more expensive – even though _it_ too was ruined – Metropolis, probably because crime had always been a part of the Gotham City lifestyle. It didn't take much to control the population; a population already terrified by the ever-permanent spike in the crime rate. Beneath the poor façade, the paper-thin mask of everyday life; people living in festering ruin, turning to crime and prostitution simply to feed themselves and their families, the drug-traffickers living it up like the fat-cats of society that they were as they siphoned from the thousands beneath them paying as much as they could afford at a time merely for an escape…

Behind a mask that struggled to disguise it, Gotham City was Hell on Earth.

And Slade revelled in it.

Robin felt ill as he looked at her.

"Wait… they… they…"

"No," Terra sighed. "No, not quite… I mean, they didn't… Look, they didn't get around to it, because Roy and I interrupted them before they could try anything. But their intention was to… _well_…"

"_Tell_ me, Terra!"

"Okay, basically, Johnny's not as dumb as he looks," Terra told him flatly. "_And_ he has a new special little power he acquired in an accident a few years back."

"Like?" Robin pressed.

"I'll field that one," Roy cut in humourlessly. "Neither of us know how or what happened, but Johnny Rancid is a bit like Poison Ivy – he's immune to all poisons and toxins. They basically have no effect on him whatsoever, and unfortunately it includes alcohol. Johnny can not only never have to worry about dying of alcohol poisoning, but… he can drink as much as he wants, pints and pints and pints, and not even get tipsy. He simply isn't _able_ to anymore."

"A useful power," Terra mused blackly, "and one _Ivy_ put to good use for our cause many a time, handling allsorts of poisons and chemicals without ever having to worry about getting poisoned or something. However… Johnny unfortunately wastes his on the little scam he and his gang have created."

Robin had a nasty feeling about where this was leading, but kept quiet.

"You know about the "challenge", Robin; you fell for it, like so many others," Terra continued, an almost-malicious edge to her voice now. "Most guys think they can beat him, you know, some of the really hard drinkers. But… they _can't_, because Johnny simply _cannot_ be affected by the alcohol. So he'll easily drink the other guy under the table with the strongest liquor he can get hold of – and sometimes it really, really strong, like the one he gave _you_ – and then, when the other guy's unconscious, he and his little gang go through his pockets and everything, and sometimes they… Well, poor idiot's unconscious, doesn't have a clue what's going on; meanwhile, Johnny's nasty little friends are using him as a sex doll…"

Robin shuddered, turning to Roy.

"And you _let_ him?" He demanded incredulously.

Roy folded his arms, his expression bored.

"Robin, believe me… when I first got this place up and running, about seven or eight years ago, I used to be like you. I truly _cared_. But after living in this dump, after seeing what Gotham City has become, interacting every single moment of every freaking day with the scum and filth it breeds… I just let them get on with it. Nothing I say or do will change them or their ways. If they don't do it in _my_ club, then they'll do it in someone _else's_ club, and that would lose _me_ business. Johnny's gang are regulars – they come in every single night of the week – and they're also publicity, because people want to take Johnny on and try to beat him. A lot of people come into my club simply _because_ of Johnny Rancid. It's not my responsibility if they want to be stupid and let themselves in for what will inevitably happen."

"_I_ was stupid, and you didn't let him do it to _me_," Robin pointed out.

Roy snorted.

"I don't care if he does it to other Gotham scum," he replied bitterly. "But _you're_ not Gotham scum, Robin, and anyway, it wasn't your fault. You didn't realise."

"So you just let him do it? You just walk right past him and look the other way?"

"No, no, no…" Roy was shaking his head violently. "If I _catch_ him doing it I give him a sock on the jaw and kick him out for the rest of the night. There's nights I've left _him_ unconscious from the beating I've given him, and Terra will tell you the same thing. What I'm saying is that I don't _watch_ him to see what he's up to. If something happens when I'm not looking then that's not my problem. But if it happens when I _am_ looking… well, Johnny comes off the worst, and so does his foul little gang."

Robin nodded, his mouth a tight little line.

"I bet _Nightwing_ didn't let him off with it," he muttered blackly.

Roy actually laughed now.

"Dick? Hell no! Dick used to prowl around watching him like a hawk, waiting for the first chance to pounce on him and slug him one." Roy sighed nostalgically. "You know, he always _did_ have a grudge against Johnny, and I have to say I think the feeling was pretty mutual…"

_Oh, it is…_

"So… what happened?" Robin asked carefully, not exactly sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, you passed out after your first glass, from what we could gather," Terra explained expressionlessly. "Roy and I came back up from the basement to find that you were gone from the bar, even though your iced tea was still there. We figured you'd gone for a walk, but then Roy got a bit worried when he remembered that he had definitely seen Johnny's gang come in that night. So we went looking for Johnny's table and we found him sitting at the table drinking, seeming quite innocent. But… his little gang gave him away, because they were on the floor clustered around… well, _you_." Terra nodded sharply in Robin's direction and he flinched as though she had struck out at him.

"Eww, they hadn't… you know, stripped me or anything, had they?" He dared to ask, shuddering at the thought of it.

Terra smiled grimly, a wave of gold hair falling forwards and obscuring on blue eye.

"Halfway," she replied in a hushed voice. "They'd taken off your jacket and gone through the pockets but hadn't found much, and they had unbuckled your belt but hadn't been very interested in the weapons in it. One of them was just unzipping your fly when Roy dislocated his jaw with his fist."

Robin winced as he looked once again at Roy Harper's tall, powerful form, imagining what it was like to be chop-sockeyed in the mouth by him.

_Ouch_.

"So… they didn't take anything?" He asked tentatively.

Terra shook her head, an odd expression on her beautiful, half-obscured face.

Robin breathed a sigh of relief, putting a hand to his chest in a dramatic show of the emotion.

His blood ran cold.

"_Necklace,_" was all he could squeak in an extremely strangled voice. He looked down at the black Lycra t-shirt stretched comfortably across his torso, feeling across it desperately.

_It was gone…_

"My necklace," he tried again, still sounding as though someone incredibly strong had him by the throat. "It's gone… oh my god, I…"

And as he watched her, Terra – her face completely deadpan – reached into the back pocket of her leather pants and extracted the Blood Diamond with the grace and superiority of any magician pulling a rabbit from his hat. She dangled it in front of his face, swinging it back and forth like a pendulum before his half-amazed, half-pissed off expression.

"_You_ took it?!" He stormed, snatching for it desperately.

Terra jerked it out of his reach irritably.

"Okay, first, what's with the Gollum act?" She asked, sounding extremely bored. "The way you're acting, it's like it's the "one ring to rule them all" or something." She mockingly rubbed the crimson diamond against the side of her face, the one blue eye he could see narrowed, and hissing "My presssss-ciousssss" in a brilliantly-accurate imitation of Gollum.

"And secondly," she went on, reverting back to normal instantaneously, "_I_ didn't take it; one of Johnny's pals did, and I smacked him one to get it back for you." Her blue eyes narrowed again, but this time she was not imitating Gollum. "But no need to thank me, you ungrateful little wretch."

"Give it to me," Robin pleaded, reaching for it again.

Terra prodded the tip of his nose, leaning in to him.

"What's the magic word?"

"_Please?_" Robin wheedled, his voice becoming so high-pitched in his desperation that, next to Terra, Roy winced.

"Jeez, give it to him, T," he told her hurriedly.

Terra snorted and tossed it carelessly into Robin's outstretched palm.

"Where'd you get it, anyway?" She asked offishly. "I mean, it's real pretty and all, and it looks really valuable, but… it just doesn't seem like your rap, necklaces and all that."

"It's not," Robin agreed, unclasping the glittering silver chain with gloved fingers that were, for some reason, shaking slightly. "_Usually_, I mean."

"Did Starfire give it to you?"

Robin blinked and looked up from the red jewel.

"No… What makes you think that?"

Terra shrugged.

"Oh, nothing, I just… You just seemed to be… I don't know, really protective of it, like someone special gave it to you…"

Robin snorted with laughter.

_Seth, special? Yeah; special in the evil, scheming, freaky way…_

Terra raised an eyebrow.

"_Ohh-kaay_… I'll take that as a "no", then?"

"Right."

Terra frowned.

"Odd… I swear Star – years ago, I mean – once told me something about a diamond. Her sister gave it to her as a present or something. I thought that maybe _that_ was it."

"Oh, no, no…" Robin shook his head firmly, remembering that time a few months back, when Starfire's older sister Blackfire had turned up at Titans Tower unannounced for some "together" time with her little sister.

Of course, if memory served, the _real_ reason for Blackfire's visit had been far from wanting to catch up with some sister-bonding time; Blackfire had been on the run from the Centauri Moon System Police Force after committing a string of high crimes throughout the entire moon system. Unfortunately for Starfire, she and her sister bore a very uncanny resemblance – aside from the fact that Blackfire had jet black hair in place of Starfire's flaming red – and Blackfire had deliberately led the police chasing her to Earth in the hopes that they would arrest Starfire instead, thinking her to be her older sister.

And it had almost worked, Robin mused grimly, apart from Blackfire's one vital mistake; she had given Starfire a present on her arrival, a beautiful and rare green diamond native to the Centauri Moons, named, rather appropriately, a Centauri Moon Diamond. So when the aliens chasing poor Starfire had proclaimed that they were in fact Centauri police looking for this seemingly-mysterious "Tamaranean girl" whom they thought to be Starfire, it hadn't taken any of the Teen Titans very long to piece together that the girl they were looking for was in fact Blackfire. "Blazin' B", as nicknamed by a smitten Beast Boy, had been to the Centauri Moons unquestionably, because she had gotten Starfire's necklace from the system; she had told Starfire that herself.

"That was a Centauri Moon Diamond," Robin corrected. "And Star threw that away once she realised what her sister was really like. _This_ is a _Blood_ Diamond."

Terra smiled humourlessly.

"And I always though _Raven_ was the creepy Goth one." She snorted. "Blood Diamond… Woo, _morbid_."

Robin shot her a wicked Jack Nicholson eyebrow as he clasped the Blood Diamond back around his neck. Terra seemed both impressed and somewhat amused.

"Good Nicholson," she remarked.

Roy snorted, feeling left out.

"Right, good Nicholson," he echoed. He smiled knowingly at Robin. "But can you do the Michael Keaton eyebrow?"

Robin shook his head in puzzlement.

"Don't encourage him," Terra sighed, punching Roy on the shoulder before he could demonstrate the "Keaton Eyebrow".

"You always put me down, Terra," Roy sniffed dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead in a "dying swan" action.

"I wish I really _could_ put you down, Harper," Terra muttered under her breath. "I mean the kind with a needle. At least maybe then you'd give me some peace…"

Roy grinned good-naturedly, hearing her perfectly clearly.

"I wouldn't count on it."

Terra sighed deeply and resignedly.

"Robin, I am officially giving him to you," she said, looking directly at Robin. "Congratulations."

Robin shook his head violently, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I don't want him," he replied hurriedly.

Roy snorted, folding his muscular arms.

"Would you still say that if I told you that I had a look at your stupid clock?" He drawled.

Robin blinked, turning his full attention to him.

"You did?" He asked, puzzled. "When?"

"When you were lying out for the count on my floor with Terra fawning over you," Roy bit out, sounding irritated.

"And?"

"And I've concluded that it is indeed broken," Roy finished drolly.

Robin's masked eyes narrowed.

"_I_ could have told you that, and _I_ don't know the first thing about clocks," he said contemptuously.

Roy shook his head.

"No, you don't understand me," he said, his voice still somewhat expressionless. "It's like you said; that clock was broken _before_ you even "borrowed" it from the museum. I don't know how it even _got_ you here…"

Robin cocked his head and Roy sighed.

"Look, come back over here and I'll show you."

He gestured for Robin and Terra to follow him and he led them back across his apartment to the bed, which was jammed at the far end. The Clock of Eternity was perched on the pillows, still ticking and the pendulum still swinging as though it was working perfectly.

But it wasn't, even though Robin had known that before Roy had even touched it.

"See, look," Roy said chirpily, picking up the clock as he reached the bed, Robin and Terra close at his heels. He removed a shining gold back plate that he had already unscrewed and showed the clock to them. Inside Robin and Terra could see hundreds of tiny silver gears turning, minute springs performing their purpose…

"We're looking," Terra responded flatly, raising a blonde eyebrow. She straightened up, shrugging. "So what?"

Roy's expression became very deadpan.

"There's a gear missing," he explained expressionlessly. He pointed to a tiny gap in the clockwork, signalling the apparent absence of a gear.

Terra and Robin exchanged a glance, then both leaned in closer for a better look.

"Where? I can't see-"

"No, wait, I think-"

"Oh, yeah, I see it now-"

"Where? There's no gear missing, Roy-"

"Yes, look, he's right-"

"Roy, your _head_ is missing a gear-"

"Oh, for petesakes!" Roy snapped irritably, snatching it out of their reach. "Are you both blind, or just stupid?"

Terra grinned.

"Ooh, _touchy_," she mocked him happily.

"You can fix it, right, Roy?" Robin asked, hoping that Terra wasn't going to put the archer into a really bad mood.

Roy gazed at him fixedly.

"No," he replied levelly. "I can't. Not without the correct gear. I've checked out my supplies, tried to replace it, but it's a specific shape and size; I'd say it's exclusive to this clock. Unless we can find the original gear, or at least find a replacement for it, we're snookered."

Robin stared at him, speechless.

"You… you _can't_…?"

Roy shook his head grimly.

"Afraid not, kid, at least not as soon as you would have liked. I can maybe try to make one myself, following the pattern of the other gears in the clock, but it could take me _days_…"

Robin's face lit up nonetheless.

"But… you _can_ fix it?"

Roy offered him a weak smile.

"No promises, kid, but I'll try."

Robin breathed a sigh of relief, looking from Roy to Terra and then back again.

"I mean… no offence or anything," he said hurriedly. "It's not that I don't like hanging out with you, but…"

"This place is a dump," Roy finished cheerfully.

"And you don't _belong_ here, Robin," Terra added, her voice soft. "This isn't _your_ world. You have to go back and stop all of this from happening."

Robin nodded.

"I know. And I _will_."

"Hold up," Roy cut in emphatically. "I have to fix this dumb clock first; otherwise, Robin, you ain't going _nowhere_."

Robin nodded vaguely, knowing it as well as _he_ did.

"I'll stop Slade," he promised recklessly, reaching up and taking the Clock of Eternity from Roy to get a closer look at the working gears inside it.

"Hey, be careful with it!" Roy reprimanded him, half reaching out for it as Robin grabbed it from him. "You've already broken it enough…"

"_I_ didn't break it," Robin replied snippily. "It was busted before I even broke into the museum to get it; you said so yourself."

"You _broke_ into the museum?"

Terra and Roy said it together, both equally stunned. Robin returned their gaze, his masked eyes innocently wide.

"What?"

"What are you, some kind of juvenile delinquent?" Terra asked incredulously. "Robin, you're supposed to be one of the _Teen Titans_, as if I need to remind you. You're supposed to _stop_ criminals from breaking into places."

"Oh, right, what was I _supposed_ to do?" Robin asked, irritated. "Go up to some security guard and say "Oh, hey, don't mind me; it's just that I need to borrow that super-priceless clock to go back in time and save the world. I'll bring it back, it's just that my time-machine is playing up". Yeah, I really think they'd have bought that, whether I'm "supposed" to be one of the good guys or not."

"So you broke into the museum." Terra seemed grimly amused by the revelation that Robin the (Good) Boy Wonder had it in him to break into a museum and steal something.

Robin smiled sparingly in reply.

"I've broken into a lot of places in my time, believe it or not."

Terra pressed her first finger onto the tip of Robin's nose, making him blink.

"Oops, there goes your nose, Pinocchio," the earth-mover said lightly, laughter gracing her voice.

"I forgot how to laugh," Robin replied coldly, pushing her finger aside with his raised left palm. "It's true. I was Slade's apprentice for like, twenty-four hours, and in that short space of time I broke into _two_ high security buildings, one of them being Wayne Enterprises. The device Slade wanted me to steal from _there_ was too heavily guarded, but the _first_ building didn't have a very sensitive security system."

Terra's blonde eyebrows were raised in understanding now;

_Slade_.

It figured.

"What did you steal from the first building?"

"Some kind of mini laser cannon; he strapped it onto my arm as a weapon."

"Did you shoot anyone with it?" Roy chipped in, sounding interested.

"Star." Robin massaged his own dark hair as he said it, the unpleasant memory coming back. "Fortunately it takes a hell of a lot more fire power than a crummy laser cannon to knock Starfire off."

Roy shrugged wryly.

"Nightwing never mentioned that," he acknowledged, not sounding especially perplexed or indeed surprised. "The whole being Slade's apprentice thing, I mean."

"It's not something I regularly bring up in conversation," Robin agreed. "I didn't do it willingly – he had to blackmail me, in fact – but it still aches when I think that… that I _betrayed_ them…"

"Well, we all know what Slade is like, Robin, _believe_ me," Terra said levelly, putting her arms around him and pulling him to her. "Perhaps no-one knows that better than _I_ do."

"I know, I…"

Robin trailed off and sighed, not knowing how to finish his sentence; instead he just let Terra cling to him, knowing that it was at least giving _her_ a little comfort. Roy stood aside, his arms folded, perhaps feeling left out, but not showing it; not wanting to rock the boat. Truly he was something of an outsider within this moment hanging in time, for even though it was he and Terra who had withstood the fifteen years of hell, they who still stood together, alive unlike so many of their friends, team-mates, lovers…

Even that aside, it was _Robin_, and _only_ Robin, who could connect with her now, only he who could know how it felt to be corrupted by Slade, to be violated, used and abused by him.

Lovers they were not, nor had they _ever_ been, in this time or in Robin's fifteen years previous, but between them was a bond, or a chain, something that could never be between Terra and Beast Boy or Robin and Starfire, or indeed, Robin and _Raven_…

Two apprentices; one master. He had corrupted them both, hoping to take them under his wing, teach them by his way, turn them into killers as effective and deadly as himself. And then, when they had rebelled against him, he had gone all out to hurt them, raping Robin, turning him into a monster, and then finally killing him, only for him to somehow be resurrected again; and then when Terra had betrayed him also, in _this_ time after he had forced her to kill the Justice League, he had trapped her when she was at her most vulnerable – alone, afraid and desperate, carrying a dead man's child and scared to tell the one person she could really trust in fear of how he – Roy Harper – would judge her. And then, when Slade had gained her trust once again, he had brutally torn her unborn child from her womb and murdered it, then left _her_ for dead too.

Roy Harper had suffered at Slade's hand, just as every single person in Gotham City had. But he or no-one had suffered half as much as either of Slade's one-time apprentices had.

Which, on looking back at all these memories (perhaps photographs rendered in black and white), seemed cruelly ironic.

But somehow not altogether illogical.

This was Slade.

And that was how he worked.

**TT**

Abrupt ending because, as usual, this is only a third of the true full chapter.

Next chapter; a cataclysm! Something MAJOR important happens! Don't miss it! Well, I suppose, you can't _miss_ it, exactly… But you know what I mean…

There are also some Terra/Raven dynamics in there. Agh, you'll just have to read…

Thankyou to: **Quinn and His Quill **(I think _Naruto_ is a bad influence. You just said you're contemplating suicide – as far as I've heard, Sasuke is emo. I think you should stop watching for the benefit of your health, you so-called "Narutard"…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(aww, I don't know if it's the best fic ever, but thankyou… And actually, you haven't written anything wrong so far…); **Guardian of Azarath **(did I repeat some lines? Oops, sorry…!); **Me **(maybe one day you'll tell me who you actually are… And stop throwing sweets!); **Coolteenzz **(This is like watching a movie? Well, thanks to you and Flying02Fish, there _are_ actually watchable version of _Black Magic_, at least! I know you said you were going to do a _Remember the Titans_ video at some point so I really can't wait to see that…); **YamiTai **(yup, that Slade… he's such a pest… Well, we're back with Roy, Terra and Robin in the future, so I hope you're happy!); **Simmie **(yes, as harsh as it sounds, Terra _is_ technically getting everything she deserves. I like her, but she did choose to betray her friends, unlike Robin, who was forced. I am glad you're calm now, though… O.o); **Kami-Elf **(Titans East? Um, well, this fic is set in Season Two, and Titans East didn't form until Season Three… I expect the members are around, they're just not a team yet. That's my reasoning…); **KGdiva **(heyyy… you read _Small Print_, right?Wow, well, I'm really glad to have you "aboard" this fic too! Jeez, you battled all the way through _Asylum_ and _Black Magic_ to this point? That's impressive. But anyhow, I'm glad you like it so much, and thankyou for all your kind comments in your review, and that you enjoy it from here onwards!); **Seductive Angel **(hello, I've missed you for a while now. Welcome back… when you get to this point!); and **CrazyInsomniac** (yup, Terra is weak. I think that's probably part of the reason why so many people don't like her – she's so infuriatingly feeble-willed. I was proud of that last chapter I wrote, but it came out quite sad…).

And, well, I expect some others will catch up at some point…

Ugh, TTYS!

RobinRocks xXx


	17. Killing Time

Wow, it's been another long while. I am so lazy at updating… Sorry!

Well, it is March – and hurrah, because March is the one month that Robin is "poster boy" on my _Teen Titans_ calendar. Anyone else who has the calendar will know that this year they included more characters so each of the original Titans only gets one month each. Robin is March – he was also March last year; although he was October too in 2006. Which is highly ironic, since he was apparently (and not _just_ according to me) born in March. And he showed up in _Detective Comics #38_, which, according to some sources, was published in March 1940. Other sources say it was April 1940, but whatever. Close enough.

For the ironic record, February was Speedy, and January was Terra. All three of our little darlings being focused on right here.

Thankyous go out to: **TheLon3Wolf8986 **(I hope not disappoint, anyway!); **YamiTai **(not a LOTR fan myself, to be honest, although it makes for some good in-jokes, as you can see); **Guardian of Azarath **(Nyes, I should hope some people have figured out the gear thing by now, at least… Yay!); **Quinn and His Quill **(that was the officially longest review you have ever left me – I am immensely flattered. I do enjoy your theories – you are absolutely spot-on on some accounts, but oh-so-wrong on others. What did Zac tell you, BTW? Something that he shouldn't have, obviously…); **Narroch **(my, wasn't it epic indeed? And yes, _Small Print_. Funny you should mention that, you slacker… Just kidding); **Simmie **(we had snow here too but we didn't get any days off. Didn't stop people from skipping out, though! And I don't know what a hang-over feels like. I don't drink because I plan to keep it that way. They're caused by, among other things, your brain shrinking back to its regular size after becoming swollen via excessive alcohol consumption. Ew, no thanks…); **Me **(isn't it just? Heh heh. Know what else is frustrating? _The fact that you won't tell me who you are!_); **LoopyLouise123 **(there's some more reminiscing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!); **KGDiva **(a lot of people have a theory about the Blood Diamond – which, FYI, _I_ came up with first, not that crummy Leonardo DiCaprio movie – and I do wonder how many of you will be right…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(well, you need wait no longer! Do enjoy…); **Kami-Elf **(Robin? Yeah, theoretically, he should be a nervous wreck by now. On the other hand, having a little annoying double of himself popping out of his forehead didn't seem to traumatise him in the slightest, so go figure…); **CrazyInsomniac **(to be honest, Roy, although he does serve other functions, has taken Beast Boy's place as comic relief here, since BB is… out of commission, shall we say?); **YingYang7 **(yay, new reviewer! Um, I'm sorry you were so miffed, but… you seem to like my story, so forgive me?); and **Flying02Fish **(I'm not gonna hate you for a couple of late reviews! Some of my old reviewers seem to have dropped off the face of the Earth, so don't worry. I am glad you like Terra – she's a very unappreciated character…).

Oh, yeah, um, forgive me if you hear Terra referred to in this chapter as "Terra Markov". I know her true correct name is _Tara_ Markov, but… since she never actually introduced herself as Tara, but rather as Terra, I referred to her real name as Terra. I know it _is_ technically Tara. It might not even be in this chapter. It's somewhere in this fic, anyway…

Without further ado, I present to you a chapter in which there thunders a cataclysm;

Killing Time

Two apprentices stood embraced; woven together by their bodies and by their sins.

In silence, in the middle of the floor of a destroyed apartment – a montage, an exhibition of _what_ those sins had led to.

Power. Tyranny. Destruction. Death.

A world saved by heroes – and destroyed by them too.

Or a _lack_ of them, as it were.

"So… it could be a while before you get back home," Roy said eventually, breaking the uneasy silence.

The moment was broken and Terra abruptly let Robin go, as though she had only just realised that she was holding him to her chest.

"Yeah, I… I know," Robin replied briskly, turning back to Roy, still holding the Clock of Eternity. "I know that, Spee- I mean, _Roy_. Just… do your best."

Roy smiled faintly.

"To do that, I'll need the clock back," he reminded Robin, holding out his hand for it.

Robin sent him a lopsided grin as he handed it back.

"Yeah, I…" Robin trailed off as Roy gently took the clock back, seeing something flash in gold on the underside.

"Hey, what's that?" He leaned forwards to get a better look, leaving Roy and Terra to exchange bewildered glances at his sudden strange behaviour.

Robin squinted at what appeared to be some kind of strange engraving on the gold bottom plate of the Clock of Eternity, running a single leather-gloved finger over it.

Letters?

Yes, and they were in the English alphabet. Trouble was, although he could recognise the _letters_, he couldn't recognise the language.

_Tempus Fugit_.

"_Tempus Fugit_?" Robin read aloud, his tone questioning. He looked up at Terra and Roy quizzically.

"Latin," Terra offered, shrugging. "_Tempus_ means _time_, I think."

Roy turned the clock upside-down, frowning.

"Can't say I noticed that before," he acknowledged, putting a hand to his chin in way that instantly reminded Robin of himself, for he too was very prone to doing the whole "Sherlock Holmes" act while contemplating something profound, just shy of uttering "It's elementary, my dear Watson" or smoking a pipe. Perhaps Roy had picked that particular trait up from Nightwing.

How quaint.

"It's definitely Latin, though," Roy went on, still frowning. He looked up at Terra and Robin. "Either of you have any idea what it means?"

Terra folded her arms.

"I told you, _tempus_ means _time_," she repeated, sounding irritated.

"And _fugit_?"

Terra shrugged.

"Hey, my _name_ might be Latin, Roy, but I don't speak the language."

Robin looked up at her, remembering the title of the book Terra had been reading the night before.

"Oh, yeah, _terra_ is Latin for _land_, isn't it?"

Terra nodded.

"It can be _land_ or _earth_. And given my _powers_, it's perfectly appropriate, wouldn't you agree?"

Roy and Robin both nodded, although Robin seemed more in earnest – Roy was still frowning over the clock.

"_Fugit_, _fugit_…"

Robin, meanwhile, was wracking his brain desperately, knowing he had heard the Latin term before. Perhaps something used as one of the Riddler's clues, or part of a prank played by the Joker?... Alfred had taught him some Latin, years ago down in the BatCave from a textbook that had been falling apart even back then; alas, he hadn't paid attention, too busy doodling on scraps of notebook paper, looking longingly at the acrobatic work-out equipment suspended high above his solitary desk in that cold, dark, dripping cave, and sighing wistfully over Barbara Gordon, who, being a few years older than him, had babysat him once or twice when Bruce and Alfred went out to their various different destinations. Even back then, when he had been eleven or so, he had had a thing for her, with her brilliant red hair and glittering green eyes and wicked sense of humour, and had spent many an hour lying in the dark in bed, half-asleep, concocting dreamy pre-teen fantasies, the most… "erotic" of which had been holding her hand while bouncing on Bruce's king-sized bed, and "bouncing" there was meant in the literal way, far from being a sexual innuendo; Robin had always enjoying springing up and down on Bruce's bed when the millionaire wasn't around, and had always managed to put up an innocent front when Bruce had complained that he thought that some of the springs in his mattress were broken.

"Robin!"

Robin blinked as Terra sharply accentuated his name, realising that he had digressed into daydreaming.

"Sorry?"

Terra shook her head sparingly, sighing.

"Earth to Robin, come in Robin," she quipped, knocking on Robin's skull and making him wince.

"We seem to have lost all contact, Houston," Roy added with a grin, looking up from the clock's underside.

"Ha. Ha." Robin's expression was utterly deadpan. "Really, I think I just cracked a rib laughing."

"Robin, do yourself a favour," Terra replied dryly. "Actually, do yourself _two_; one – pay attention, and two – stop hanging around with Raven. She's slowly but surely smothering any personality you have."

Robin raised his eyebrows, opening himself up for more fire;

"Look, even _that_ is a Raven expression. You're just like a male version of her; I never remember _our_ Nightwing being that way."

"You _still_ don't like her?" Robin was slightly amused, but not at all surprised. "Even when she's been _dead_ all these years?"

Terra sniffed.

"You can't say it wasn't a mutual feeling. She never trusted me, and she never wanted me to be part of the team."

For the first time since meeting this older Terra, Robin could feel a spark of his anger towards the Terra of his own time being ignited, and being directed towards the Terra in front of him now. Older version or not, she was still the same person, and fifteen years ago _this_ Terra too had betrayed the Teen Titans of this time, sold them to Slade, telling him all their weaknesses, their darkest secrets, their fears, just as the sixteen year old girl had done all but a few months ago in his _own_ time. He knew that _this_ Terra regretted it deeply now, and had never forgiven herself for it, deeply redeeming herself to once again become the good, courageous person she truly was beneath the corruption and deceit Slade had manipulated her with.

But even so… Terra and Raven had never really gotten on, rubbing each other up the wrong way, Raven perhaps a little jealous of Terra's sudden ability to control her powers while she had to meditate every day to keep _hers_ under control. And Terra… Perhaps it was merely Raven's mistrust of her that had caused the earth-mover to dislike Raven back, because Robin knew it must be difficult to be nice to someone who clearly thought you were bad news, but he admitted that _he_ hadn't exactly trusted Terra either, especially when she had turned up again out of the blue claiming to have sudden control over her awesome powers. In fact, it was _he_ who had taken it upon himself to monitor her, checking in on her to see what she was up to while feigning overt friendliness – something which he had become accomplished at from all those rich-boy parties he and Bruce had attended, where it was compulsory to have a broad grin on your face and pretend you were absolutely _delighted_ to be talking to whichever bimbo or drunk businessman had cornered you. But even despite his concealed detective and spy work, she had still eluded him, outwitted him and the other Titans, attempting to save only Beast Boy by getting him away from the island while Titans Tower was under attack.

In _this_ time, that had been a long time ago; in Robin's own, still raw and painful, only a few months before. Yet even now, even at thirty-one years of age, Terra still seemed to be stabbing at Raven, the teenaged telekinetic, the murder of whom – and the other Teen Titans – in which she had helped conspire. Robin understood that even though Terra was sorry for the Titans' death, she would never like Raven, but fifteen years was a long time – Robin himself had only been _alive_ for _sixteen_ – and he couldn't understand why Terra couldn't let her dislike of Raven go. Even now, she had just brought up that raw subject, that Raven had never wanted her to be part of the team, when it had happened so long ago. Could Terra truly not even forgive a dead teenaged girl, one who had died with her friends over fifteen years ago?

"How can you _still_ hate her?" Robin asked, his voice soft and sad. "After all this time, and after… after _you_ helped to kill her?..."

Silence.

Terra stared at him as though he had physically slapped her in the face, her forget-me-not blue eyes wide, the right one almost obscured by a frond of blonde way hair so that she somehow resembled Slade.

"Do you realise what you just said?" She asked him finally, her voice so quiet and broken he could barely hear her.

He immediately regretted his words, but then… they were _true_…

"Terra, maybe you should… I'm sure he didn't mean…" Roy, who had been standing there as something of a third party up until now, suddenly came over to the earth-mover, taking her by the shoulders.

Terra barely noticed her friend, instead still staring wordlessly at Robin, who simply stood there hopelessly, not knowing what else to add to a statement that had already said too much.

There was another painful silence, broken only when Terra finally spoke again;

"You little bastard," she hissed, still being held by Roy. "You haven't got a fucking clue, have you? You just-"

"_Shh_, T," Roy soothingly interrupted her, putting a finger to her lips. "Lay off him, he's just a kid."

Normally Robin would have been insulted at that, but he didn't have it within him now, seeing how upset Terra had become by his words. He hadn't _meant_ to upset her, but he simply couldn't understand what her problem with Raven was, even all these years later.

"He doesn't understand, Roy," Terra spat, shaking her head and getting Roy's finger from her mouth.

Roy nodded, a tiny faint smile on his handsome face.

"I know he doesn't, Terra, and that's why you shouldn't blame him. Like I said, he's only a kid, and he's not from this time. _That_ must make it harder for him to understand _anything_ at all…" He pulled Terra into his powerful build, holding her to his chest. "But _I_ can understand you, Terra. That's why we're pals, right?"

Terra clung to him and burst into tears. Roy kissed the top of her head, right on the crown of her flowing blonde hair, and rocked her slightly.

Robin bit his lip, then attempted to approach, but Roy caught his eye and shook his head, mouthing "Don't". No sooner had he stepped back into his original place than Terra suddenly pushed Roy away and abruptly walked out of the room. In the silence that ensued Robin could have sworn that he heard muffled sobs coming from the stairwell.

Roy raised his eyebrows at Robin's bewildered and disheartened expression.

"Don't worry, kid," he said airily. "She gets like this sometimes. Don't be too quick to think that _Bruce_ has been the only one affected by everything that's happened this past fifteen years."

"Terra's not _mad_, is she?" Robin was genuinely surprised by the revelation.

"_No_." Roy shook his head, sighing. "She just… well, she can get upset easily. Just watch what you say to her."

"Shouldn't we go after her?"

"No, just leave her alone for a bit. She'll come back in a little while, once she's calmed down. She's probably just out there on the stairwell."

"I didn't mean to upset her like that," Robin said mournfully.

"I know," Roy said cheerfully. "You just started spouting off without thinking about it, and you were up to the neck before you realised what you had said."

"Well…" Robin folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, okay… But I can't understand why she's still so hung up about Raven, even after such a long time."

Now Roy gazed sadly at him.

"Robin, isn't it _obvious?_ She feels terrible for helping Slade to destroy the Titans, but the only reason she _went_ with Slade in the first place was because he promised to help her to control her powers. Raven had always had a similar problem, struggling to maintain control over powers that were destructive if not bridled and handled with care, so Terra naturally warmed to her, feeling that she could relate to her. But Raven shunned her, mistrusted her and disliked her no matter what she did, so Terra grew to hate her simply because she shut the friendship she was offering out. That initial liking Terra had for her soon turned poisonous, to the point where I think the real reason she betrayed the Titans to Slade… was to kill _Raven_. She never wanted Beast Boy to be hurt, even attempting to save him, and I don't think she really had it in for you or Cyborg or Starfire either." Acknowledging the expression on Robin's face, he added; "Anger and hatred are very consuming emotions, Robin, as it jealously. All of them can drive a person to do terrible and regrettable things."

Robin nodded in understanding, the expression on his face still one of deep confusion.

"So… all Terra ever wanted… was for Raven to be her friend?"

Roy shrugged.

"That's what I can gather from what Terra has told me over the years," he replied breezily.

"But if Terra regrets what she did, why does she _still_ hate Raven? Is it because she _blames_ her?"

"Possibly," Roy agreed, "but in truth I don't actually think that she _does_ hate Raven anymore. I think that she's sorry for what she did, and deeply horrified and ashamed that it was her hatred for another girl that drove her to do it. In the end, all it was… was typical girl bitchiness, and Terra turned it into something far more terrible. So I think that she truly _doesn't_ hate Raven the way she did, but masks her true sorrow and kids herself that she _does_, because it makes the pain easier for her."

Still Robin remained silent, feeling worse by the second for what he had said. He had been angry, of course, at Terra's seeming insensitiveness, but now… now he _understood_.

"And Robin," Roy went on, his voice soft and barely audible, "you have to understand that when you look at Terra… Well, you see a beautiful blonde woman, gifted with incredible power, control over the very earth we stand upon… but you also see a murderer, because that's what she is. She regrets it every morning she wakes up, with every breath she takes, but the past remains unchanged even for all her regret and sorrow. There is blood on Terra's hands, and there always will be, and her soul is tainted with sin, even for her redemption. Imagine how that must _feel_, every day of your life… If _that_ doesn't screw a person up, then I don't know what _does_."

"But I…" Robin trailed off hopelessly, not really knowing what he had been intending to say anyway.

"Look, just don't say it again," Roy advised gravely. "She knows that you didn't mean to upset her, so don't mention it again and she'll forgive you, okay?"

"Fine…" Robin moved his gaze to the Clock of Eternity, now back sitting perched on Roy's pillow. "Still no idea what _tempus fugit_ means, huh?"

"_No_, but…" Roy's blue eyes seemed to glitter now with something Robin supposed was excitement. "…I know where we can find out."

He knelt down beside his bed and fished something out from underneath it – a large cardboard packing box. Looking over his shoulder, Robin saw that it was filled with books, all different kinds, trashy paperbacks to pulps to old, beautiful leather-bound specimens like the ones occupying the library wing of Wayne Manor. Roy sorted through them roughly, retrieving a tiny paperback from the bottom of the box – it looked as though it had seen better days, as the cover was hanging off the spine and Robin could distinctly see that it had been scribbled in.

Roy straightened up, flipping through it. He looked up briefly at Robin, grinning when he saw the bewildered look on the teenage boy's face.

"It's a Latin phrase book," he explained, looking back down at it. "Used to be mine when I was at East City High School learning Latin. As you can see, I didn't treat it with very much respect…"

"But you _kept_ it?" Robin asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Sure. It holds some dear memories, like the many initials in hearts of girls that I fancied at one time or another…"

"Oh?" Robin leaned over in interest.

"Hey, _hey!_" Roy closed the book again, sounded harassed. "Butt out, Sherlock!"

Robin stuck his tongue out at him and stalked away again.

"It's not like I'd _know_ them…" he muttered darkly as he skulked off back across the apartment.

Roy shook his head, flipping through the phrase book.

Robin was looking at the photographs on Pallais' empty tank again when he heard Roy excitedly calling his name;

"Robin! Come here, I found it!"

He would have pretended to not hear him, but he too wanted to know what those two little words meant, and so he half-ran back across the room to where Roy was standing, one long finger pointing just below the two printed words; _tempus fugit._

"_Tempus fugit_," Robin read aloud, squinting slightly at the tiny print, "translates as… _time flies_."

He looked up at Roy, frowning.

"Time flies? How appropriate…"

Roy shrugged apologetically.

"Guess the Latin sounds a little more mysterious, huh?"

Robin nodded.

"Yeah, kinda..."

He retrieved the clock for the third time, carefully turning it upside-down so that he could read the Latin words inscribed upon the bottom again.

"_Tempus fugit… time flies_…" he read off again, his voice hushed.

It was then that the clock began to do something, quivering in his grip, pulsing with some kind of power. Shocked, Robin dropped it back onto the bed and jumped back from it.

"What did you _do_ to it?" Roy snapped. "As if you hadn't broken it _enough_…"

"_I_ didn't break it in the _first_ place!" Robin replied irritably.

Even so, Roy placed his hands on Robin's shoulders and drew him further backwards still away from the clock. There was some kind of gold, shimmering aura surrounding it, something Robin had never seen before in reference to the timepiece.

The door suddenly swung open again, heralding the return of Terra; the blonde earth-mover didn't seem very pleased.

"What the _hell_ are you two doing in…?"

Terra trailed off as she came to Roy's side, her blue eyes wide.

And rightly so, as now a beam of golden light had erupted from the very centre of the clock, expanding as though a spotlight on a Broadway stage.

"Didn't know that thing had torch functions," Terra muttered as the three of them stood gazing at it, simultaneously mesmerized and freaked out.

"I don't think it does…" Robin's voice was weak as he replied.

A dark shape merged from the light, taking on a humanoid shape. Gradually, as it stepped from the heaven-like glow onto the shoddy floor of Roy's apartment, the creature came into full light, revealing its true form.

A man, certainly, a very tall and willowy figure with long-layered white hair and matching moustache and goatee beard. His complexion was dark, almost weather-beaten, and he was old, although not frail; Robin would have put him to be in his seventies from the way he looked, judging by the lines at his eyes, mouth and forehead, but the way he carried himself was that of someone well over half his age. He wore flowing black and crimson robes and a thick gold chain at his neck, strung on which was a heavy gold watch, one that reminded Robin of a Victorian pocket watch. And his eyes… were brilliant green, just like that biker guy's, and just like Seth Elliott's…

"Cool!" Roy exclaimed, finding his voice. "A genie!"

The tall man turned his head slightly in Roy's direction, and the look in his brilliant eyes was one of disgust.

"I am no genie, mortal," he replied in a low, ominous voice. "I have many names, but "genie" is not one of them. You, however, may address me as the "Master of Time", for that is my official title."

Despite the friction between them, Robin, Terra and Roy all exchanged a glance; it was one that distinctly said "Cornball!".

"Right," Roy said, his voice disguising laughter. "So some guy pops out of a clock and we're supposed to believe that you're the "Master of Time"? Sorry, grandpa, but I think you've come to the wrong place, 'cause none of us are buyin' it."

Terra nodded, her arms folded; Robin merely blinked up at the tall man, for some reason believing that this was _not_ this guy's idea of a month-early Halloween prank. This guy was here for a reason, that much was certain.

"On the contrary, Roy Harper, I have come to _precisely_ the right place," the Master of Time said, an icy snap to his slow voice.

Roy blinked, paling.

"Wait a second… you know my-?"

"I know _all_, Mr Harper," the Master of Time interrupted. "I have watched over this world and many others since time began, I know of every person that has ever walked this earth, and I know of the ones that have _yet_ to walk it." He turned his gaze on Terra, who was regarding him sceptically. "I know of _your_ history also, Ms Markov," he went on, causing the colour to drain from Terra's face too.

Before either Terra or Roy could react to his words, the Master of Time sharply turned his attention on Robin, sending a shiver down the Boy Wonder's spine.

"But the reason I am here is not for either of _you_," he said deliberately, peering very hard at the boy in black standing in front of him quivering slightly, half from fear and half from the fact that he still didn't feel one hundred per cent following his run-in with Johnny Rancid.

"I have come for _you_, Richard Grayson," he went on, indicating one long, thin finger right at Robin to accentuate his point. "I have come for the _Avenger_…"

_Why am I **not** surprised?..._

"Sorry, pops, but the kid isn't signing any more autographs tonight," Roy cut in sharply, pulling Robin back away from the Master of Time.

"What do you _want_ with him?" Terra asked defensively, putting a hand on Robin's shoulder, protective despite her earlier anger at him.

The Master of Time uttered a long sigh.

"Perhaps I misphrased that term," he admitted, his voice low. "I am not here to take him _away_-"

"Not even to take him back to his _own_ time?" Terra asked, frowning.

"I am afraid not. At least, not _yet_. The Avenger shall indeed return to his own time to right what is wrong, but only after he has fulfilled his destiny and broken the prophecy once and for all."

Robin stared at him, wide-eyed.

"_What?_" He squeaked. "I can't… I mean… I'm not _ready_, I can't take on _Slade_-"

"The time is almost nigh, Richard Grayson; you _must_ be ready, for if you are _not_-"

"Hold up!" Robin interrupted, annoyed. "Do you _know_ what he _did_ to me the _last_ time I faced him?"

"Of course I know, but you must-"

"Then you'll know that I'm not _ever_ going to subject myself to that again!" Robin finished, interrupting the Master of Time for a second time.

"That which does not kill you can only make you stronger," the Master of Time replied simply.

"Yeah, well, he almost _did_ kill me!" Robin snapped. "And then he possessed me with a demonic form, and _then_ he really _did_ kill me, _and_ all my friends. So thanks, but _no_ thanks."

"Richard, please-"

"Stop calling me that!" Robin spat. "You have no right to call me that. My mom was the only person who _ever_ called me that, so _don't_, okay?"

The Master of Time sighed heavily.

"Would you prefer Dick? I am aware that-"

"I would _prefer_ it if you would take your stupid broken clock and cram it up-"

Robin was cut short as Roy slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

"Hush up, Robin, or he might give you a power wedgie or something…"

Robin shook himself free.

"I don't _care!_" He bit out angrily. "I'm sick of prophecies, I'm sick of Slade, and I'm _sick_ of being the freaking _Avenger!_"

"You would shirk your destiny now, when the time draws ever nearer for you to fulfil it?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Robin met the Master of Time's steely gaze even so.

"What does it matter if I do or not?" He spat. "This place is fucked up already, and Terra has already told me that even though Slade killed the older me in _this_ time, he never found the key. There's no way he can _ever_-"

"Richard, do not upset yourself," the Master of Time replied calmly. "I am not here to force you to do anything you do not want to. But before you make any decisions you _must_ understand the urgency in which I come to you."

Robin snorted but was sulkily silent, feeling Terra squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

"Fine," he muttered darkly. "I'm listening…"

"Good." The Master of Time nodded curtly, seemingly satisfied. "It would seem that the prophecy in question has something of an expiry date; that is to say that the prophecy _must_ be fulfilled by midnight tomorrow or the Orb of Azarath itself will turn to solid worthless stone, rendering it completely powerless."

"But that's _great!_" Robin burst out. "If it turns to stone then Slade can't use it for evil! _And_ I don't have to have my butt kicked all over again!"

"If that were merely the case, Richard, do you think I would have come here tonight?" The Master of Time asked him sceptically, his tone an explicitly bored one.

"Well, I…" Robin trailed off, thrown. "So… there's _more?_"

The Master of Time nodded gravely.

"I am afraid so, yes. It would appear that the main perpetrator in this equation, the one you call "Slade", has not been acting alone, both in this time and in your own."

Robin briefly looked at Terra, who mouthed "seer" at him.

"Yes indeed, Ms Markov," the Master of Time chimed in idly. "The person who has been helping Slade is indeed a seer, a most devious and clever woman who has, as Ms Markov I'm sure will back up, been pulling the strings on Slade's fulfilment of the prophecy since Day One."

Robin nodded impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, old news," he said dismissively. "Terra's already told me all of that stuff."

The expression that crossed the Master of Time's face – a half-amused, half-irritated one – at that reminded Robin strongly of Alfred, and reminding him of the time when Alfred had actually _caught_ him leaping up and down on top of Bruce's mattress (_minus_ Barbara Gordon, but you couldn't have everything).

"Well, this seer has foreseen that Slade will fulfil the prophecy tomorrow at midnight, and-"

"But… the key!" Robin spluttered. "He hasn't got-"

"That is where the problem lies, Richard," the Master of Time interrupted him softly. "The seer has revelated that the key will come into Slade's possession tomorrow night, just in time for the Summoning."

"And how is it that _you_ know everything this seer seems to predict?" Roy asked suspiciously, still not believing that this guy was entirely for real.

"I am the Master of Time, Mr Harper," the mysterious man replied calmly. "I know _all_."

Roy folded his arms, still disbelieving; Terra didn't seem to be much more embracing either, but Robin couldn't blame either of them. He was having a hard time believing it _himself_, and had this guy not started spouting about the prophecy and addressing him by his correct title – not even "Dick", but "Richard" – he would not have believed it either. It really _was_ seriously corny, as though out of a low-budget sci-fi flick; _really_, a guy appearing out of a _clock_…

"So… what?" Robin asked, sighing heavily. "_I'm_ the Avenger; how do I _stop_ him?"

There was no trace of amusement in the old man's eyes as he spoke the three devastating words;

"You kill him."

The silence that followed was unbearable, bouncing around the walls of Roy's broken apartment, somehow louder than anything Robin had ever heard.

It was Terra that finally broke it, her voice shaking, her hands protectively on both of Robin's shoulders.

"Don't do this to him," she whispered, her voice catching with her every word. "You _can't_ do this to him. He's so _young_, don't force him to _kill_…"

"We all must fulfil our destiny, Ms Markov," the Master of Time replied uncompassionately. "Richard Grayson's is to stop the prophecy. It will not be pleasant, but that is what he must do. And if the only way to stop Slade is to _kill_ him, then that is what Richard must do, no matter his age. _You_ should know that better than anyone, Ms Markov."

"I was _wrong!_" Terra spat, tensing up. "That wasn't my _destiny_; Slade only _told_ me it was, but he _lied_ to me! He lied to me all my _life_, he corrupted me, he told me I _belonged_ with him because of all the horrible things I had done on _his_ behalf-"

"Then does he not _deserve_ to die?" The Master of Time asked softly, his glittering green eyes, so much like Seth's, fixed on the earth-mover.

"Yes, but not at _Robin's_ hand!" Terra snapped back without missing a beat. "_I'll_ do it, or Roy will, or… or Lex, or even _Bruce_, but… but not _Robin_. You can't force him to _kill_, not at sixteen… It'll _destroy_ him, just like… just like it destroyed _me_."

"A most noble offer, Ms Markov, and one that is most loyal and admirable," the Master of Time replied dryly. "But I am afraid that it cannot be so. Richard alone is the Avenger; it is only _he_ who can stop Slade, as contrary as that may seem."

Robin felt Terra's grip on his shoulder's tighten again, so that it almost hurt, yet he found it slightly comforting in the face of this terrible revelation, one revealing that he would have to become a murderer or die trying.

"Look, there _must_ be some other way," Roy said desperately. "He's just a kid, you can't brainwash him into murdering someone…"

"I am not brainwashing _anyone_," the Master of Time replied calmly. "This is Richard's decision, and his alone to make. Neither of you must influence him or attempt to sway him. You must let him choose for himself, and if he does not want to do it, then he does not have to. But he _must_ understand what will happen if he _does_ decide against it; it could mean the end of the world as you know it…"

"I still don't see why _I_ can't just burst into Slade's little hidey-hole and shoot a quiverful of arrows at him," Roy muttered. "_That_ would get the job done just as well, and without a single drop of blood on Robin's hands…"

"Because _you_ are not the Avenger," the Master of Time repeated, sounding, for the first time, irritated. "_Why_ can't either of you grasp that?"

"Because it doesn't make any _sense_," Terra replied angrily. "Whose bright idea was it to make the "Avenger" a sixteen year old boy, anyway?

"

The Master of Time shrugged, seemingly bored with argument, and turned his keen gaze back on Robin.

"Have you come to a decision yet, Richard, or do you need more time to think about it?" He asked softly.

Robin merely gazed back at him wordlessly, but both Roy and Terra seemed disgusted and outraged by that statement.

"What the hell?!" Roy spluttered. "How on earth do you expect him to make such a choice in about five seconds?!"

"You're asking him to _kill_ someone," Terra added coldly. "It's hardly as trivial as choosing a pizza topping…"

"Do _not_ interfere," the Master of Time threatened them, not even glancing in their direction. "It is a life-shaping decision and Richard _must_ choose by his own judgement."

There was another few seconds' silence. Then;

"I'll do it."

Robin's voice was so soft that it was barely audible, and yet the tone was very firm, determined.

"Robin," Terra whispered, "you don't know what you're saying, you don't know what you're getting yourself into-"

"I do, Terra," Robin interrupted her, his voice strangely calm. "I don't _want_ to kill, but… _I'm_ the Avenger. I have to stop him, and so I _will_."

"A most admirable attitude, Richard." The Master of Time seemed pleased, but Robin did not smile.

"Let's just get it over with," he said grimly. "Come on, we can go now and I'll kill him while I still have the nerve…"

Roy opened his mouth at that, but the Master of Time headed him off;

"I am afraid that is not possible, Richard. There are many rigid rules laced within the prophecy, and virtually no loopholes. You must play this game how it is meant to be played, and to do that you must listen to every detail that I tell you. If you were to burst in upon Slade now, he would most certainly kill you. This assault must be pre-meditated if it is to succeed."

"So where do _we_ come in?" Roy cut in, his voice sharp.

"_You?_" The Master of Time asked pleasantly.

"Yeah," Terra replied in Roy's stead. "_Us_. We're hardly going to let him do this alone, even if Robin has to do the _killing_."

"Hmm." The Master of Time considered their words somewhat mirthfully. "I suppose you would be of some help; that is, if Richard _wants_ it. In this final phase of the prophecy, all depends on _him_, and his decisions. If Richard decides that he would rather do this alone, then you must respect his wishes."

"No, I want their help," Robin said quietly. "I think I'm going to _need_ it…"

"If that is what you desire, Richard." The Master of Time didn't sound particularly enamoured with the idea, but grudgingly let it pass.

"It is." Robin's masked eyes narrowed at the old man. "I also "desire" for you to _stop_ referring to me as "Richard"."

The Master of Time seemed to ignore that, his glittery-green gaze drifting from Robin's face and the defiant expression on it. Instead he turned his attention to Terra.

"_You_ know where Slade resides, do you not, Ms Markov?" He asked her.

Terra folded her arms and snorted.

"What, don't _you?_" She challenged him. "I thought you know _everything_."

"I do, but before I can tell you anything, I need to know what _you_ are already aware of."

Terra sighed and rolled her blue eyes.

"Last I knew, he was at the GothCorp Electricity Plant; at least that's where I-"

"_Wrong_." The Master of Time interrupted her somewhat smugly.

Terra shrugged.

"Then he's moved location. I don't keep track of him, you know."

"_That_ is obvious."

"Well, that's _your_ job, isn't it?" Roy snapped in Terra's defence. "You're the one that "knows everything", right, O Master of Time and All Things Divine…"

The Master of Time smiled thinly.

"Are you mocking me, Mr Harper?"

Roy pretended to consider that accusation.

"Yes, I think I _am_," he decided finally.

"Shut the hell up, Roy," Terra hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

"I was defending _your_ honour," Roy hissed back, seeming hurt.

"There are better ways of doing it," Terra murmured.

The Master of Time shook his head in disgust, turning back to Robin.

"You are sure that you wish for these two to help you?" He pressed confidentially.

"They're my _friends_," Robin replied icily, "and both one-time Teen Titans, not to mention two of the only surviving members of _Batman's_ Titans. I wouldn't have anyone else in this world."

He felt Terra squeeze his shoulder at that and Roy made a quick obscene gesture at the Master of Time while he was busy staring at Robin as though seeing him in a new light.

"There is a strange sense of nobility about you, Richard Grayson," the old man decreed finally, his voice slow and decisive. "And I do not understand where you got it from."

It took a few second for Robin to realise that had been a crack at his parents; Terra and Roy seemed to realise it at the same time and Terra grasped hold of Robin, feeling him struggle in her grip.

"That was a really _lousy_ thing to say," Roy said lividly, shaking his head in disgust. "His parents are _dead_, but you must _know_ that…"

"I do." The Master of Time seemed utterly unruffled, watching in mild amusement as Robin fought in Terra's grip in an attempt to get at him, tears streaming down his pale face contorted with anger.

"Well, so are _mine_," Roy hissed. "_And_ Terra's. So if you think the three of us are just going to stand here and let you slag off our parents, then you've got-"

"It wasn't meant as an insult," the Master of Time replied airily. "It's just that circus people, particularly from the Gotham area, aren't usually known for such admirable qualities."

"_You take that back!_" Robin screeched at him, clawing at the air in front of him.

"Not an insult, huh?" Roy snorted in grim amusement. "It certainly insulted _Robin_. You pretty much just referred to his whole family as scum."

"He can call _me_ what he likes, Roy!" Robin spat, trying to prise Terra's arms away from where they were locked underneath his ribcage. "But I'm _not_ having him saying stuff about my mom and dad! Terra, let _go!_"

Terra shook her head and looked up, the words she spoke directed at the old man in front of her;

"You know, if I wasn't so afraid that he'd kill you, I _would_ let him go," she told him coldly. "As it stands, seeing as you have already turned up here and told him he has to kill _Slade_, I'm doing this for _his_ own good rather than _yours_."

The Master of Time only smiled.

"Most sensible, Ms Markov."

"You think this is _funny_, don't you?!" Roy accused him, utterly disgusted.

The old man blinked.

"_Funny_, Mr Harper?" He asked innocently. "Why not at all. It is just that… well, there is simply _no way_ that Richard Grayson could possibly kill me; I am far too powerful to be harmed by his mortal martial arts, or the rather impressive control over electricity he has managed to acquire."

Roy blinked at that, confused.

"Control over…?"

The Master of Time smiled indulgently.

"Oh, there is _much_ Richard has not told you. _Much indeed_…"

"Yeah?" Roy raised his eyebrows. "Well, here's something _I_ haven't told _you_ yet, Mr Time Master, although I should have when you first appeared out of that damn clock; _get the hell out of my apartment!_"

"I have not told you all that you must know if you are to be victorious against-" The Master of Time began to protest.

"We heard enough," Terra interrupted him coldly. "Thanks for the information. See you around."

Meanwhile Roy slid one foot under his broken bed, hooking out his bow and arrows with a single neat little kick. Within seconds it was loaded up and pulled back, held with deadly poise and precision by Roy Harper's powerful form. The silver tip of the arrowhead glinted in the light from the fire, pointing directly at the Master of Time's heart.

The Master of Time chuckled softly; even Robin had stopped struggling, instead watching Roy.

"A mere arrow cannot kill me either," the old man told him softly.

"This isn't a "mere" arrow," Roy replied, a trace of a smile on his handsome face. "Let's see what a steel-alloy tipped arrow fired by _me_, Arsenal, would do to you, huh?"

The Master of Time shook his head pityingly.

"Such arrogance…"

"Want me to back up that claim, hotshot?" Roy challenged him.

The Master of Time shook his head again.

"Do not waste your precious "steel-alloy tipped" arrows; they won't work anyway..."

Roy scowled and released his hand—

The arrow moved faster than any of them could even attempt to follow, slamming with a _thunk_ into the Master of Time's chest, right into his heart…

"Hmm, nice shot," the Master of Time admitted, looking down at his chest. "You truly _are_ very talented, Roy Harper. Were I but a mortal such as yourself, I would most certainly be dead. Unfortunately, as I recall saying _before_ you shot me, it simply cannot kill me. _So_…"

The old man grasped hold of the polished wooden shaft of the arrow and tugged it back out of his chest, leaving no wound to speak of; the rip in his black and crimson robes even repaired itself as he drew the arrow away from his body. The arrowhead was clean, shining as it had done before it had entered the Master of Time's chest; the old man examined it for a few seconds, then offered it back to Roy.

The silence that followed was as taut as the string of Roy's bow. Robin and Terra simply looked on wordlessly as Roy hesitantly reached out and took his arrow back. Another few seconds passed, before Roy simply dropped both the bow and the arrow to the floor, where they clattered loudly in the absence of words.

"Excellent," the Master of Time said eventually, sounding extremely pleased with himself. "I did not come here this evening expecting to be treated with such hostility."

"Sorry the welcoming committee wasn't quite what you had hoped," Roy spat, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking slightly from the shock.

The old man shrugged.

"Truthfully, I've had worse. Now, as I can see that my presence is much abhorred, I will keep this brief."

He looked at them each in turn; the Avenger, Richard Grayson, held back by Terra, pale and shaking, half with rage and half with shock, streaks of drying tears down his face; the earth-mover, Terra Markov, still clutching at Robin even though he was no longer struggling in her grip, dressed in tight black lace and leather and her cascade of long blonde hair obscuring half of her face; the archer, Roy Harper, tall, powerfully-built and handsome, yet now as pallid and shivering as the dark-haired teenaged boy beside him.

Now that they had seen only a glimpse of his power, they were afraid of him, even the earth-mover, who could tear the world literally in half if she so wished.

He knew they were listening, and would do as he told them.

"Tomorrow night, at the first stroke of midnight, the Summoning Ritual will begin, for Slade will have the key in his possession. I might add, of course, before you say anything, Richard, that the Avenger of _this_ time is already dead, killed by Slade himself three years ago. You think it is a _coincidence_ that you were thrown forwards fifteen years to _this_ time, even though you had planned to go _back_ only _ten_ hours? That the clock managed to work even though it is missing a gear?"

Robin stared at him, speechless, and for a few seconds the anger he felt in light of the Master of Time's words about his parents was forgotten.

"You… _you_ did that?" He spluttered, feeling faint.

"It was necessary, I am afraid," the old man replied calmly. "Don't look so alarmed, there is no way I would have let you come to any harm…"

Again words failed Robin, and the Master of Time took advantage of his silence;

"You are here to do the work of your fifteen-year-older self, who, unfortunately, met his rather messy end at Slade's hand three years ago. Tomorrow night you must vanquish Slade and break the prophecy, or I may assure you that this world will become an even _worse_ place to live, ruled by a tyrant with powers you cannot even _begin_ to imagine."

Robin swallowed and nodded nervously.

"Ms Markov is indeed right," the old man went on. "Slade has moved location since she spent the last few months of her pregnancy with him at his hide-out; his latest lair is situated within the still-standing below-ground regions of Wayne Enterprises."

_How ironic…_

Again Robin nodded wordlessly.

"However… it is a complex web of security. Slade's minions will be everywhere." He looked at Terra and Roy. "_That_ is where you two come in. It will be _your_ job to assure that the Avenger reaches his destination."

Terra and Roy both nodded, as speechless as Robin was.

"Leave it late, so that Slade will barely have time to react, and so that even if you should fail, the "expiration" date on the prophecy itself will run out. You must, however, stop him from beginning the Summoning Ritual at the first strike of midnight, for once the ceremony is begun there will be nothing you can do to stop it. Once within the circle of working magic, Slade will become untouchable to you, and invincible. Even if you are unable to _kill_ him before midnight, if you can distract him until the twelfth chime, then the Orb of Azarath's power will no longer be accessible to him. And after that twelfth chime, Richard, your birthright as the Avenger will be lifted from you, whether you are victorious or not."

Robin nodded a third time, still unable to speak.

The Master of Time stood there a while longer, seeming to bask in their silence. Finally he turned, his robes whipping out behind him as he made his way back over to the Clock of Eternity. He touched it and that golden glow, like the one in Terra's eyes as she unleashed her powers, began to surround it again, pulsing larger and larger until Robin, Terra and Roy had to shield their eyes from it.

"Good luck," were his final words to them, his emerald eyes fixed on Robin in a way that made the boy shiver.

The old man began to fade into the light, his outline growing fainter and fainter by the second, until finally they lost sight of him completely. The glow itself faded too, as though a spotlight that had suddenly been cut off at the mains.

That terrible, uncomfortable silence seemed to ricochet around the room still, even in the absence of the strange Master of Time.

Finally, Roy broke it, the laugh that accompanied his words weak;

"So I guess this means that we don't get three wishes, then?"

Terra decked him.

**TT**

Robin lay awake in the distilling darkness of the coming dawn, on his back on the cold floor of the church back-room. The blankets of his make-shift bed were drawn tightly around him, and he was wearing his older-self's black fleece over his boxer shorts, but still he felt cold. It was a strange coldness, though, not one that made him shiver as such, but something else; something that gnawed away inside him, as though it was some horrible creature that had somehow gotten inside of him and was trying to eat its way back out, getting closer and closer to the surface, true, but never enough to break through.

He wriggled uncomfortably – _not_ the most pleasant metaphor. It reminded him of _Alien_, where that nasty… _thing_… had burst out of that guy's stomach…

Cyborg had thrown up when Beast Boy had made them watch it. So had Beast Boy, actually.

Over the back of the couch onto the floor.

Raven hadn't watched it, instead reading a book happily in her designated corner of the couch and zoning out into a world of her own. Starfire had fled a third of the way in, frightened out of her mind despite the fact that, of the five of them sitting there in the front room of Titans Tower, _she_ was the one who _was_ actually an alien.

And Robin had had difficultly sleeping that night, even though he knew that it was not real.

Like tonight.

Only the knowledge of what was to come was very real indeed.

Not even a foot away from him, Terra slept soundly on her side; he could see the curve of her hip beneath her blankets. Her gold hair fell all over her upper torso, glinting slightly in the miniscule slivers of dull dawn light creeping in through the gaps in the boards at the windows. Robin had to admit that she was very beautiful, but he had no desire whatsoever for her.

He had a feeling that _Roy_ did, however.

He had apologised to her after arriving back at the church, and she had graciously accepted it and hugged him tightly and then cried a bit, seemingly forgetting that she was still clinging to him. Then she had kissed him goodnight on the mouth and wandered off as though in a trance to get ready for bed, and he had realised that Roy was right – Bruce wasn't the _only_ one who had gone loopy…

He had drifted to sleep eventually, but it had been fitful and restless, so that he had awoken two or three times in the dark, gasping for breath despite the coldness of the night, maybe because his blankets had become so tightly twisted around his body he could hardly breathe; his dreams too had been broken, senseless, with no structure apart from the recurring glimpses of his dead friends, of Bruce, Terra and Roy as they were now, of Slade, his parents, and Seth Elliott…

Speaking of, the Blood Diamond had slipped down underneath his sweater, the jewel and the chain cold against his bare chest beneath the fleecy material. He hooked it back out, as it had been uncomfortable, and held the jewel as high above his head as the chain would allow. He could barely see it, just a miniscule red glitter now and then when the light seeping in caught it.

He untangled himself from his blankets and shifted over the twelve or so inches of floor that separated him from Terra; he knelt next to her and clawed at her shoulder to wake her up. Her blue eyes fluttered open but he knew that she could barely see him in the darkness.

"Robin?" She asked him sleepily. "What's up, baby? You have a nightmare?..."

Robin shook his head, knowing that she couldn't see _that_ either.

"No… I just…"

Terra lifted up her blankets and pulled him under with her, much to his surprise; before he had realised it he was curled up against her warm presence, one of her arms draped over his back.

"You know, even Beast Boy never got this far," she murmured, giggling sleepily. "Into bed with me, I mean… even though we are both still wearing our pyjamas…"

Robin squirmed uncomfortably.

"Well, I wasn't trying to… this wasn't what I-"

"I know, I know…" Terra sighed languidly and kissed his hair. "And believe me, nothing's gonna happen here; if nothing else, I'm fifteen years older than you. But you could do with some comfort right now, honey… Trust me, I know how scared you are about tomorrow. "

He couldn't argue, or deny it, because he was trembling a little even now when he thought about it, and given that he was so close to her, she could probably feel it. Strange, though; despite all the horrible things she had done, he still felt a weird connection with _this_ Terra, an insatiable trust and liking of her, something which he was unable to place upon the Terra of his own time, the fifteen-year-younger teenaged girl who had betrayed them. Perhaps because this Terra… ran so parallel to him; she had been forced to be Slade's apprentice, and she too had been forced to kill, and…

"Terra?"

"Mm?"

"I… uh…" Robin closed his eyes even in the dark, barely daring to ask…

"Did… did Slade ever… _rape_ you?..."

He physically felt Terra stiffen slightly and could have kicked himself; but still, he _had_ to know…

There was a very long, painful silence.

"Yes."

She said it so softly that he barely caught it, and had he not been lying right next to her, he probably wouldn't have.

But he did, and his heart sank.

"I… _When?_"

"He… he did it more than once, Robin…"

Terra sounded near tears again, and again Robin froze up as he heard her words.

_More than once…_

It had been terrible for _him_, maybe because it had been homosexual more than anything else, and it had really, _really_ hurt. But at least… at least Slade had only done it _once_, and for a reason; at least he had that much to be grateful for, even if it _was_ little compensation.

But Terra… well, in all fairness, it didn't surprise him, because Terra was female and very pretty, and surely Slade, even if he _was_ a psychopath, had male needs just like every other guy. But that was just it; _male needs_. There would be no logic behind it, no reason…

"Strange…" Terra made a sound halfway between a sob and a giggle. "He used to do it when he was angry or frustrated, like it used to calm him down…"

Robin closed his eyes tight at that, sickened; that raping someone would calm Slade down, the idea that he enjoyed it…

"The first time was a few weeks after the death of the Teen Titans," Terra murmured, more to herself, but because he was so close against her, listening to her heartbeat, he could hear every word, and every breath. "We were training in the workout room, and he started getting a bit too close for comfort, and then he just… He… he didn't even _ask_ me, he just… he didn't _want_ to have normal sex with me, Robin; he wanted to _rape_ me. Maybe it gave him some kind of feeling of power or something…"

"Couldn't you have gotten him off you?" Robin asked her in despair. "I mean, he had twelve of his robot commandos holding me down, and _I_ don't even have any _powers_… Couldn't you have hit him off with a rock or something?"

"He told me not to resist him, so I didn't."

Terra's voice was almost toneless now. Her arms wrapped around him tighter, holding him as though he was a security blanket or a favourite doll – something that gave her comfort.

"After that one night he didn't do it again for months and months, possibly one or two years… But then, one night… I can remember it so clearly, like it was… _yesterday_…" He felt her shiver and could have cried for her. "I was in the shower after a training session, and the door opened, and he just… well, you can _gather_ what he did. He started doing it every night after that, whether I was training or in bed or in the shower; he used to hunt me out and have his way with me… I was weak back then, Robin, I used to do everything he told me to, _let_ him do anything he wanted… It was addictive to him, I think, you know, like a heroin addict; he didn't do it so much because he _liked_ it, but because it was habit – because he felt that he _needed_ to."

"Right." Robin was utterly disgusted. "He _needed_ to humiliate and violate you; he _needed_ to _hurt_ you…"

One of Terra's long gentle hands went to the back of Robin's head, as though he was a tiny baby, or a little kitten.

"You know, Robin… I think he _did_."

"You're _defending_ him?"

"_As if_. I _hate_ the bastard, and you know it. After everything he's done to me, and to my friends, how can I _not?_ But… I _understand_ him, Robin, probably because I've spent so much time around him. Trust me, he's almost as mad as _Bruce_. His obsession with that prophecy has driven him over the edge, he's so desperate to fulfil it. For _fifteen_ years he's thought about nothing else; wouldn't that drive _you_ crazy?"

"But it's all _greed!_" Robin pointed out. "Everything he's done… it's all for _power!_"

"Well of course. That's why he's a _bad guy_, remember?"

"But he drove _himself_ mad! It's not fair to compare him to Bruce; _he_ went crazy because of _grief_."

"I _wasn't_ comparing him to Bruce, because you're right; they _can't_ be compared. I merely said that Slade is about as ga-ga as Bruce is, and it's true – he _is_."

"Well…"

"I've already told you the rest," Terra went on softly, her voice small and sad. "That one night when Nightwing beat me to a pulp, then left me that note, which I made the mistake of bringing back to Slade… He didn't _rape_ me that night, he just… _I thought he was going to kill me…_"

"And you walked out on him," Robin added. "Smartest thing you ever did…"

"I know…" She hugged him and he felt her cascade of blonde hair fall all over him, becoming static as it brushed across his fleecy sweater. "But then I went back to him again… But, you know… in all the time I was there with him, pregnant with Dick's child… Slade never laid a hand on me. Maybe he had lost the need for it, the addiction, or maybe he was disgusted by me, impregnated by his most hated arch-nemesis. Maybe he couldn't stand the feeling of having to be so close to my swollen stomach and knowing he was practically touching Nightwing's offspring…"

"Or maybe he knew that he couldn't push you around anymore," Robin hissed. "You should have killed him in his sleep, you should have-"

Terra grasped him firmly by the elbows and roughly shook him.

"_Don't talk like that!_" She spat. "Don't be _thinking_ like that, especially not when you know what you are going to have to do tomorrow. You're speaking _poison_, Robin, and I'm telling you stop, _right now!_"

He quivered in dark silence and she held him to her again.

"You're scared, aren't you?" She whispered, her tone softening again.

"No." His voice was defiant, but she still saw through him.

"Robin, I'd be _worried_ about you if you _weren't_. There's nothing creepier than a completely emotionless killer."

Robin was silent for a while.

"He… the Master of Time, I mean… he really _expects_ me to _kill_ Slade, doesn't he?"

"I think that's the general idea. _If_ he is to be believed. I mean, he knew a lot, sure, but… Slade's seer knew everything too, and even though Slade still listens to her even to this day, I don't think he really _trusts_ her."

"You think he was lying?"

"_No_…" Terra replied slowly, "not exactly. Well, he _could_ have been, I guess, but then, he might _not_ have been. I mean, there probably _is_ truth to what he was saying, but… I don't know, I just didn't get a very trustworthy vibe off him. I think you should take everything he told you with extreme caution. Don't just go charging into Slade's lair wielding a tommy gun, is what I'm saying. Analyse the situation first, see if Slade really _is_ planning to perform the Summoning."

"And what if he's _not?_" Robin asked her bitterly. "Apologise for the intrusion and back out again slowly?"

"Robin, I… I just don't want blood on your hands. You're too young for this, too young to have such a burden hanging over you for the rest of your life…"

"I'll be fine." Robin breathed out deeply. "I can do this… I mean, I _want_ to. I know that sounds awful, but I _do_. I just… it still scares me. You know, a little bit."

"Or a _lot_."

"Were _you_ scared?"

"When?"

"When you… when Slade made you… the Justice League, they…"

"Oh." He felt Terra shake a little even now. "Yeah, I was shaking like a leaf in fall… But I… I convinced myself it was right, that I was fulfilling my destiny…" Terra's voice was bitter as she spoke now. "So I did it; just one little twinge to trigger a whole landslide. Once I'd done that I couldn't do anything anyway, even though I regretted it as soon as the first rock began to fall. I tried to _stop_ it, in fact, but I wasn't strong enough back then to hold it all back…"

"I… you think _I'll_ regret it?"

"I don't know… this is _different_, Robin, although that doesn't make it any more right. But Slade… he's _evil_, he's done horrible things, to you, to me, to our friends, and to this city, and Jump and Metropolis and… Hell, he _deserves_ to die. I… I just wish that _I_ could do it for you, or _Roy_ could…"

"But there is _already_ blood on your hands, Terra," Robin whispered.

Terra smiled in the dark and kissed his hair.

"Right. So a little more wouldn't make much difference, right?..."

Robin shivered and curled against her, his masked eyes sliding shut. He was suddenly very tired and, even though dawn was already breaking outside the destroyed church, he felt the need to sleep.

But even as he drifted back into the restless dark world that beckoned him, lulled by the rhythm of Terra's heartbeat and the warmth of her form, he couldn't help but question her last words, and wonder if she was truly right.

**TT**

Mm hmm, indeed, indeed…

Fun times lie ahead indeed, kids.

On a mostly unrelated note, I saw _The Number 23_, starring Jim Carrey, last night. Although I wanted to see it, I had my misgiving, since it was directed by one Joel Schumacher, a.k.a: The Man Who Destroyed Batman. _Batman and Robin_ – let's not discuss it. It's too painful…

But it was actually pretty good. The irony of the movie was that Jim Carrey's character, Walter, had a teenaged son. The son's name was none other than _Robin_. Now, it is ironic enough that his name was Robin when it was Joel Schumacher who directed the film, since it is note-worthy that, of all the five big-budget _Batman_ movies (not including the 1966 TV series spin-off movie, aptly titled _Batman: The Movie_), only Joel Schumacher's _Batman_ films had Robin in them. Tim Burton's didn't, and neither did Christopher Nolan's.

But here's the killer. Jim Carrey's character's full name was Walter Sparrow.

His son was therefore called Robin Sparrow.

Now would someone like to tell me WHO IN HELL CALLS THEIR KID "ROBIN" IF THEIR SURNAME IS "SPARROW"?

Tch. Some people…

Anyway, that amused me throughout most of the film. It's good, BTW. If you can catch it, despite what the critics have said, see it. It's probably out in the US by now, though…

Anyway, update… whenever.

RobinRocks xXx


	18. Wicked

_Wicked_. This chapter is so-called for two reasons. One is the idea of "good" and "bad" that is quite shallowly explored. The second is because of the _Wizard of Oz_ references. Now when I first wrote this part of the fic, about a year and a half ago, I had never even heard of _Wicked_. The musical about Glinda and Elphaba, that is. So the _Wizard of Oz_ references weren't intentional. They're just… _there_. And now, in retrospect, _Wicked_ seems a very good title for this segment, so here we are.

In other news… It's music video season again! The wonderfully talented Flying02Fish has returned with another trailer, this time for _Remember the Titans_. Well, I call it a trailer – it's not really. It's more of a teaser. It is – count them – **36 seconds** long, so there is NO excuse for you to not watch it. It is wonderful – she's got practically everything we've touched on so far; dead Titans, Slade taking over the world, Nightwing, crazy Batman, the Justice League, Terra, Speedy, the Clock of Eternity…

O.o It's wonderful. And Narroch did me the huge favour of putting up a link for me, so that can be found on my profile if you'd care to go check. PLEASE watch it. It's fantastic. I don't know how she does all of this editing, but wow…

Thankyou to; **Dark Austral** (heh, I love Roy too…); **Simmie** (_RTT_? End soon? Are you nuts? We're not even halfway through here! So don't be sad!); **Kami-Elf** (uh, well, there's not really the opportunity for a recap chapter between Robin and the Titans, but Marcus and Arella show up again at the start of this one. Is that, uh… good enough?); **Me** (the _Teen Titans_ 2007 calendar is available from Amazon. The poster girl for November would be our lovely Starfire – lucky you; I'm December and I get freakin' _Gizmo_… – and I'm not answering your other question, so nyah! Maybe if you told me who you were…); **Guardian of Azarath** (part of the upcoming Robin/Slade fight was posted as a preview for _RTT_ in the very last chapter of _Black Magic_, actually…); **TheLon3Wolf8986** (yeah, Robin's a bit screwed up at the moment. Wouldn't we all be?); **Quinn and His Quill** (well, if it isn't Sombrero Man himself. Your theories do amuse me, BTW, although I suspect Zac has been telling you things he should have _shut the hell up_ about… And yes, Cinderblock is a house brick…); **YamiTai** (nyes, evil Master of Time… what a loon… And Robin. he's a loon too…); **Narroch** (yes, we aren't going to talk about your review… BTW, you are aware that the audio from that vid comes from _Aqua Teen Hunger Force_, aren't you?); **Athena's Wings** (oh, that's okay. Thankyou for going all the way to an internet café just to review! I can't tell you about the gear, though…); **Crazy Insomniac** (back for your regular does of Robin torture? I do aim to please, my dear… Hope you like this chapter as much as the last one!); and **Super Chaos** (didn't I put up any pics of Robin's RTT outfit? Agh, I must do that – I _have_ drawn some…).

Soooooooo…

Wicked

"_You… will let him do this?"_

"_I do not have much of a choice, Angela." Marcus Vandiver did not look at her; instead opting to study her reflection in the mirror, his back to her._

"_**Arella**." Her expression was reproachful._

"_No. **Angela**." He corrected her now. "Angela Roth, the **human**. You know you are no warrior…"_

"_I know, but I have to… my daughter—"_

"_Angela." He leaned his forearm against the mirror with a heavy sigh. "I want you to return to your chamber and remove your garments. You will not be accompanying us tonight."_

_Arella stepped forward, her face contorted in anger. She was indeed dressed for the part – Azarathian battle armour. She looked like a warrior queen; for more extravagant now than her fellow senators. Her silver tiara slightly resembled a helmet, bird-shaped – the curved point overhanging her face in the way that her daughter's hood did. Her long fair was free, shining magnificently. Perhaps, if any of the Teen Titans themselves had been present, they would have noted her sudden similarity to Starfire – a silver collar and breastplate was matched by similar shining gauntlets on her arms and a V-shaped silver belt at her slender waist. Her attire itself was purple, again seeking to seem familiar – sleeveless, knee length, with splits to the top of the thigh up either side. A long matching cloak draped down her back._

"_There is no doubt your appearance belies it," Marcus went on softly, "but you can do **nothing**, Angela. Nothing at all."_

"_I have trained. I have—"_

"_You have no powers. You will not last two minutes—"_

"_The **boy** has no—"_

"_You are not a warrior, Angela. And this… this is a war."_

"_And the boy?" Arella crossed the room, slamming her hands down on Marcus' desk. "Robin, who also has no powers? The one caught in the **middle** of all of this?"_

"_Robin is not like you, Angela." Marcus finally turned to her. "He has not got a choice…"_

_Arella straightened._

"_Neither have I."_

_She turned on her heel with a flurry of material, starting for the door._

"_Yes, you have." He slammed the doors shut from where he stood across the room, making her gasp and stop short as she reached them. "But **I** am making it **for** you…"_

_His own Soul Self arose and devoured him at his will, removing him from where he had been and placing him where she was._

"_You're going to go back to your chamber, and you're going to take off that ridiculous armour, and you're going to stay **here**, do you hear me?" He hissed at her._

_Arella watched him in shaking angry silence._

"_Marcus," she said finally, "Azar help you, my daughter had better live to see the sun rise…"_

_She started out again, pushing past him; then paused._

"_Where is Cordelia?"_

_Marcus blinked icily at her._

"_I think you know where Cordelia is…" He stepped past her, adjusting one of his own gauntlets._

_His robes today were black; as Jonathon's had been._

_Arella gazed at his back as he drifted aimlessly back across the study._

"_I hope you find what you are looking for, Marcus," she whispered finally. She left before he could turn to her, closing the door decisively. _

_He stared at the door in her stead; and then his gaze slid to the mirror. He gazed at it intently, as though looking through a portal into another realm, as though he could see something there that Arella could not, and…_

"_Oh, yes, Angela." He rested his forehead against the glass. "I think I will…"_

If patience was a virtue, then Dick Grayson was not the most virtuous of people. That meant in the not-being-very-patient way; not the literal way. "Virtuous" means good – an antonym of "virtuous" being… well, _bad_, to put it simply.

Just because he was going to kill someone in less than fifteen minutes… it didn't make him _bad_.

Did it?...

Robin kicked another rock and heaved another sigh. He was restless, and he was uptight.

And he was scared.

And, much like waiting in a long queue for a super-scary roller coaster, the longer he waited, the tenser he got.

"Why are we just _standing_ here?!" He burst out finally, his last nerve snapping.

He spun wildly to face Terra, who was sitting on the boulder she had used to transport them there, gazing up at the clear, cold winter night sky above.

_There_ being the wreckage of Wayne Enterprises. It had been demolished years ago, for now moss and ivy crawled across the broken rubble, the twisted pieces of scratched metal. Here and there, pieces of circuits lay like snakes, half-concealed by the mud that had begun to suffocate them. Around it was a whole grey desert of other shattered buildings and cracked pavement – _this_ part of Gotham was beyond even disrepair. Like Wayne Manor, a little of it still stood, but it was dark and dangerous, and the heavy floors sagged and creaked ominously where they struggled to be sustained by twisted, weakened support beams.

_That _was where they needed to go.

Terra looked at him and raised the one eyebrow he could see at him; once again she was back in the Lycra outfit he had first seen her in, with three-quarter length sleeves and legs, and leather gloves and ankle boots. Her gold hair was free, hiding the right side of her face, and she carried no weapons – being what she was, she did not need them.

Conversely, _he_ carried all the weapons the pouches on his belt would hold; birdarangs, grappling hook, staff and the gothic silver knife. He was on an assassination mission, and something told him that he was going to need all the help he could get. He still wore all black – Lycra T-shirt, black leather pants, bomber jacket – perhaps because the one sombre colour calmed him slightly.

Or made him feel _badder_.

"Bad" meant in the _good_ way.

He twisted his necklace around a leather-gloved finger as he watched her intently; the single pale blue eye he could see was searching him, hunting for some emotion behind the blank, empty mask – the same one that hid _his_ eyes, even bluer than hers.

As though she somehow saw through it.

"We're waiting for Roy," she said eventually.

Again.

"I've told you that," she went on. "I've told you that about four times, Robin."

"Can't we just-"

"No."

"But he'd know-"

"No."

"But I don't see why-"

"_No_, Robin." Terra sounded irritated. "Roy said to wait for him, and that's what we're doing. He won't be long, ok? I know you're nervous, but could you just… just… go and be nervous over _there?!_"

He knew that she had been going to tell him to relax, but _she_ knew that would be impossible for him to do.

"The Master of Time said the security would be tight," Robin said, trying to be patient. "Slade could have hidden cameras everywhere. The longer we stand here, the more we're opening ourselves up to be spotted."

"We're waiting for Roy, Robin." She watched him moodily kick another rock clear across the wreckage. "Look, I know what you're like, Robin. Your thought chain is spontaneous, you use your fists first, then talk later. I don't want you just running in there and getting yourself killed."

"_You'd_ be with me," Robin pointed out.

"I can't guarantee that I alone could protect you. I'd feel more comfortable with Roy there as well."

"Yeah, but I-"

Robin was cut off by the sudden roaring of a motorcycle, and he and Terra both turned towards the direction of the noise.

"Here he is now, anyway," Terra said, standing up. "See, told you he wouldn't be long."

Sure enough, seconds later a midnight-blue-and-silver chopper had side-grounded to a halt a few feet away from them, kicking up a cloud of dust and dry mud.

"Hey, Roy!" Terra protested, waving the cloud away from her face. "_I'm_ supposed to be the earth-mover here, remember?!"

Roy Harper wasn't wearing a helmet, and because of that Robin could see the wide grin spread across his handsome face. His appearance was dramatically different, however; he was in uniform, the same red and gold one Robin recognised from the photographs stuck to Pallais' tank. It had a high neck, unbuttoned, with gold details on the buttons down the front and the feather-like design on the chest. His gloves were brilliant yellow, as were his boots, and so was the wide belt at his waist. Slung casually over one shoulder was his "bag of tricks", containing many arrows of a wide arsenal – ranging from regular arrows to ones with exploding functions – and his bow was carefully secured to the back of his bike. He retrieved it now, holding it loosely yet confidently in one hand, much the same way Robin held his staff in the midst of battle.

And, like Robin, a black mask concealed his blue eyes.

"Sorry I'm a little late," Arsenal said, still grinning. "Bruce wasn't being very cooperative… nothing new _there_ then…"

Robin blinked, looking from Terra to Arsenal and then back again.

"Bruce?"

Terra ran a hand through her sheet of gold hair.

"We were hoping to get Bruce to come with us, for a little bit of back-up. But…"

"He wasn't in a good mood," Arsenal finished wryly.

Robin eyes them both sceptically.

"I thought he couldn't _walk_ without that stick?"

"He _can't_ walk without it." Terra smiled thinly. "But he can _fight_ very well with it as well, actually."

"Lex was there," Arsenal put in mildly. "They were playing cards quite happily, but then Bruce flipped out when I walked in. Lex managed to calm him down, so I relayed the message to _him_ to see if _he_ could manage to get it through to Bruce; thought it might trigger his memory. Had to leave them to it though, to get _here_."

"Think they'll come?"

"Lex didn't look very keen, even when I told him we were taking down Slade for good. But you never know…"

"Right."

Robin looked at them both, quite put out that they hadn't informed him about the intended-addition of Bruce into the "Taking Slade Down" equation.

The answer to that equation, inevitably, being _him_.

"Uh oh," Terra said with a sudden grin, looking down at Robin.

He blinked.

"What?" He asked sulkily.

Terra pinched his cheek, perhaps harder than she had intended, because he felt sure that it was going to leave a mark.

"Look at the cute widdle pouty face!" She crooned, a sarcastic yet delighted edge to her voice. "Aww, how sweet you look when you're all sulky!"

Furious, Robin pulled himself away and abruptly turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Can we just _do_ this, please?" He called back over his shoulder, fighting to keep his voice from shaking too much with anger.

And fear.

Terra and Arsenal exchanged glances, knowing that he was far more afraid of what was to come than he would let on. Perhaps to put up a brave front.

Or perhaps to stop _himself_ from going to pieces.

They followed him into the cold dark depths of the still-standing part of Wayne Enterprises, none of the three of them really knowing where they were going, or which direction they were supposed to be heading. However, the Master of Time had said that Slade had set up shop down in the basements of the broken skyscraper, so the logical way to go seemed to be down, and only down; it wasn't like there even _was_ an "up" anymore…

They came to a reinforced metal door, which Terra smashed open with a boulder and Arsenal led the way through, holding a flaming arrow aloft to light the way down the staircase that stretched ahead. Their footsteps echoed on cold empty concrete for what seemed like an eternity, until finally a faint glow of light could be seen. Drawn to it, Arsenal led the other two towards it, finding that the steps ended as they stepped into a dimly lit, long, narrow corridor. They all stopped, bumping into each other in the narrow light, and looked around – the corridor they were now in stretched both way for as far as they could see, with several smaller corridors leading off it one both sides.

"Great," Arsenal muttered darkly. "_Now_ what?"

"Where are the munchkins to show you the way when you need them?" Robin quipped dryly.

Terra scuffed her foot along the cold concrete floor.

"Don't look like no yellow brick road to me," she murmured. And then, nodding at Robin's heavy steel-soled boots; "And you're hardly wearing ruby slippers there, either."

Robin flashed her a weak grin.

"Well, _yeah_. Can't kick somebody's face in with ruby slippers, can I?"

"If we could _focus_, please," Arsenal interjected irritably. "As entertaining as your "Wizard of Oz" reminisces are, we have a _job_ to do, remember?" He narrowed his masked eyes in Robin's direction. "Particularly you, "Dorothy", and ruby slippers or no, your shoes are gonna be pretty _red_ by the time we're done. So let's not joke about it, huh?"

The grin slid off Robin's face like mud as he sank back into his overwhelming oblivion of fear and dread, mingled with his own determination and sense of duty.

His sense of destiny.

"Killjoy," Terra muttered to Robin as Arsenal started down the left of the corridor.

Robin did not deign to answer her, instead sailing past her and her attempts to lighten the mood. Arsenal was right – it wasn't a time to be making jokes. What they had to do – and particularly what _he_ had to do – was serious.

Evil or not, they… _he_… was going to kill someone.

_Murder_ someone.

"You know," Terra said sharply as she caught up to Arsenal and Robin, "I can't remember how many times Beast Boy said that comedy was hard, but, jeez, he was _right!_" She shook her head at Robin. "I'd forgotten that you didn't have much of a sense of humour."

"My sense of humour is _selective_," Robin replied primly.

Terra rolled her eyes, or at least the one they could see, and muttered something neither of the males could hear.

Both suspected that it had had something to do with their male-oriented hardware that she, being female, lacked.

Not that she – or any _other_ female, for that matter – minded; entirely the opposite, in fact. And at least she had one advantage over them – she knew just where to kick them if they annoyed her.

Seeing the expression on her face – one that made him feel very nervous – Robin ducked around behind Arsenal, emerging on the other side of him so that he was between Terra and the Boy Wonder himself. Arsenal merely glanced at him, and the look said; "Oh, thanks, put _me_ next to her,". Robin grinned guiltily at him, but did not move back. Only this morning he had slept, or at least drowsed, in Terra's grip on the cold floor of the church back room (fully-clothed, of course; it was much too cold out there to be anything _but_ fully-clothed), and now he was too scared to walk next to her.

Mainly because she was radiating a vibe that somehow told him that she would like to kick him very hard where it hurt most; Arsenal appeared to be picking up on that same vibe and was gradually and inconspicuously edging away from her too. To make matters worse, every time they shot a nervous glance in her direction and she caught it, she would simply smile sweetly at them, a true blonde's smile, as though her skull beneath the waves of cascading gold was empty.

A Reese Witherspoon smile.

Seeing that bimbo smile – and knowing that she was far from what that smile belied – made both Robin and Arsenal even uneasier.

As though in response, Arsenal pulled out an arrow and slid it into his bow, pulling it back and holding it there with such elegance and strength that the entire movement reminded Robin somewhat of a male ballet dancer. _He_ had never done ballet – he'd worn enough leotards in Haley's Circus to last a lifetime – but he knew how strong dancers were, and he couldn't help but think that Roy would probably be very good at it. The years of arching, first as Green Arrow's sidekick – just as _he_ had been Batman's – and then as an independent teenaged superhero and honorary Teen Titan (known as _Speedy_, of course) and then, in his adult years, as Arsenal, which he was now… Roy Harper was pretty buff, no doubt about it, but there was something about his arms and shoulders, where all the real work went on, that was somehow fascinating. The muscles in his arms were firm and supple, and when he used his skill with a bow and arrow they seemed to flow like water beneath his skin, rippling like waves. His physical strength was remarkable, certainly, but there was a certain grace and elegance about him that Robin had never seen before, in Bruce or Clark or even Slade.

The only other person he had even seen such grace and strength in had been his father.

His _real_ father.

John Grayson.

Well, aerialists _had_ to be both strong and graceful. If they weren't, then they were in the wrong job, simple as that.

Physically, Robin knew that _he_ too had that same grace – he was a freaking trained acrobat, after all – but at sixteen it wasn't as prominent as Roy Harper's or John Grayson's. When he fought he moved with such ease it was as though he was the very air itself, but yet it did not seem nearly so perfect as his father's before him, or as Arsenal's seemed now.

Maybe it was his shoes – good for kicking faces in as they were, they did hinder you somewhat from being at all graceful.

Looking down at them, he wasn't surprised.

"This is ridiculous!" Arsenal sighed, exasperated. He stopped and lowered his bow slightly, the arrow still pulled back, but now casually so. "That Time Master guy didn't even tell us _where_ in this damn building we'd find Slade, and we've only got about fifteen minutes until midnight."

Robin's chest tightened at that.

"_Fifteen minutes?_" He squeaked. "But… we… I-"

"I can try to trace any vibrations coming through the ground," Terra interrupted him, her words directed more at Arsenal. "It might lead us to him."

Arsenal blinked.

"You can do that?"

Terra sniffed haughtily.

"_Yes_, actually."

Robin, despite his fate looming ominously before him, drawing closer and closer by the minute, perked up at that.

"Then what are we just wandering around for? Let's do this!"

Terra nodded and flapped her hands at them. They both obediently stepped back and watched as Terra closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her arms fell to her sides, her gloved fingers spread, and she stayed that way for about twenty full seconds or so, concentrating deeply. Despite her hatred for the telekinetic girl, dead both in this time and in Robin's present, Terra still reminded him of Raven. They both bore powers that were unbelievably strong; powers that could unleash devastation if not controlled.

And control over their powers was not an easy thing to master.

Unlike Robin's.

Even now he could still feel his body crackling with electricity, but after two full days he had grown somewhat used to it, so that he could barely feel it. And the control had come so easily to him… _Too_ easily to him. It had taken him barely five minutes to master control over it, to use to his will. Raven and Terra, in Robin's own time at least, were still learning. Sixteen years, and they were _still_ learning to control their powers.

He had barely used _his_ brand-new superpower, slightly afraid of wasting it, and even more afraid of hurting someone by accident.

_Killing_ someone.

Because he knew electricity was dangerous. He knew because it had killed _him_, and it had killed his friends.

And with the Teen Titans, Jump City had died too.

Those few seconds seemed like minutes, _hours_ even, but Terra finally opened her blue eyes and smiled slightly.

"We're going the right way," she concluded. "Come on, I can lead us to him."

She started off ahead, and Arsenal and Robin exchanged a glance before following, Arsenal raising his bow again and Robin taking out his Bo staff and extending it.

Terra led them through a maze of corridors, turning left, then right, then right again, then left, then…

"How are we going to get _out_ of here again?" Robin whispered to Arsenal. "I can't remember which way we came."

"Neither can I." Arsenal didn't seem too perplexed. "One step at a time, kid. Don't get too ahead of yourself, ok?"

Robin nodded, his brow furrowed as he turned his attention back to the cold, almost-dark corridor around him. There was nothing distinctive about it – it looked exactly the same as all the other corridors Terra had led them down.

_Maybe we should have left a trail of breadcrumbs_…

Eventually Terra came to a halt in front of another pair of reinforced steel doors. This one had a circuit box next to it.

"Great," Terra murmured, folding her arms.

"_I'll_ handle this one," Arsenal cut in happily, changing the arrow in his quiver. This one seemed to be electrically charged, and Robin could see that he wasn't needed as Arsenal fired the arrow right into the heart of the circuit box. The arrowhead actually pierced the metal casing and the electrically-charged arrow shorted out the circuits.

The doors silently slid back.

To reveal the alternating field of luminous blue security lasers.

Arsenal swore loudly.

"What the _hell?!_" He spluttered, gesturing wildly at the laser field as the blue beams moved across the floor and up the walls in an elaborate, ever-changing criss-crossing pattern. "_How_ is _anyone_ supposed to get through _that?!_"

"They're _not_," Terra reminded him flatly. "That's the _point_."

As Arsenal mimicked Terra in a high-pitched tone that sounded nothing like her, Robin began to unzip his jacket.

Terra had done her bit in leading them here.

Roy had gotten these doors open.

Now it was time for _him_ to play _his_ part. Time for him to do what came most naturally to him.

Even more naturally and perfectly than martial arts.

"Jeez," Arsenal sighed, "you'd need some kind of super-ninja to get across there. Some kind of really amazing _gymnast_, or someone who was really, _really_ good at acrobatics…" He demonstrated a few attempted ninja-like moves and almost lost his balance. "And as you can see, _I'm_ not our best candidate…"

Robin shrugged off his jacket, bearing his torso in its tight black t-shirt, the Blood Diamond glittering against it. He unclasped it and held it tightly in one hand as he bent down to remove his heavy boots.

He needed all the grace he could get.

"I mean, what do we do _now?!_" Arsenal ranted, brandishing his bow with such force Terra had leap backwards to avoid being speared by it. "Call up the local circus? "Oh, hey, sorry to bother you, but we're trying to break into a bad guy's super-security main base but we're having a bit of trouble with the laser field and we were wondering if you possibly had an acrobat or two that weren't busy who could get across it. We'll bring them straight back, we promise – you know, after we've broken in and killed our arch-nemesis". I really don't think they'd buy it, you know."

"Someone called for a circus acrobat?"

Arsenal and Terra both turned in surprise at the sound of Robin's voice; it sounded slightly timid, but more amused.

He was standing in front of them, his arms spread out as though about to sweep into a bow, his jacket, boots, packed belt and necklace in a neat pile behind him. He was still fully clothed – Lycra t-shirt, leather pants and elbow-length leather gloves – but it was all so tight, form-fitting, that he might as well have been wearing nothing.

Exactly what he needed. No heavy, chunky boots, and no capes. He was barefoot, right on his toes so as to keep as little of his soles on the freezing concrete floor.

"Duh!" Arsenal slapped his own forehead and laughed. "Of course! Haley's-freaking-Circus, right?"

Robin nodded, stepping forwards.

Terra frowned worriedly.

"Even so, Robin, I don't think you'll be able to get through there," she said, catching his shoulder. "It's very tight, and they move very quickly-"

"Watch me," was Robin's only reply.

"Robin-"

He shrugged her off and walked right up to the first laser; the only unmoving one, in a horizontal position across the doorway. As he stood watching the other lasers, trying to deduce a pattern, working out when to move, he felt Arsenal punch him lightly on the shoulder.

"Good luck, kid."

Robin nodded vaguely, not really paying attention to him.

Then he saw his opening and sprung forwards onto his hands, arching his back over a laser beam as it came up the length of his spine and straightening up for it to miss touching his back by only a scant few centimetres. Looking around, seeing only blackness cut by startlingly-blue beams, he smiled.

A good workout.

Bruce had put him through worse things. Harder things. More painful things.

And he was still here to tell the tale.

…If only just in some cases.

He ducked as one swept through where his head had been, then cartwheeled twice in succession to avoid several more. Even the knowledge of what would happen if even one hair touched those lasers did not stop him from enjoying himself. It was not difficult for him – second nature, even. Terra could not do it, Roy could not do it, even _Bruce_ could not do it.

But _Robin_ – Dick Grayson – could, and that was what mattered.

He handsprung four times in a row, flipping over and over as easily as though he was merely walking. He ducked two more, bending over backwards almost in half, and then flipped up into the air again, cartwheeling mid-air and landing inches clear of the laser field. Looking around, he quickly located the circuit-box and blew it apart with a spark of electricity. The laser field faded and died and across the other side of the corridor Arsenal punched the air and whooped loudly. Robin blew off his fingers as though they were an old-fashioned pistol, grinning.

_Another thing to add to To-Do List; find that Static Shock guy and hang out with him. Could probably learn a thing or two from him…_

He and the Titans knew of Static Shock, of course; an African-American teen like Cyborg, with the same sense of humour as the half-robot. Only, far from being robotically-enhanced, Static had control over electro-magnetism. He tended to stick around Dakota, but Batman had whinged before that he had seen Static cruising through Gotham.

For someone as buff and spooky as Batman, he tended to whinge a lot.

"That was one sweet piece of work there, kid!" Arsenal congratulated the Boy Wonder as he and Terra approached, Terra carrying the clothing Robin had discarded to give him more flexibility.

Robin smiled faintly, shrugging modestly.

"Seriously, Robin," Terra added quietly, offering him back his stuff. "You were amazing. I've never seen you do real acrobatics before. Well, I _hadn't_."

"You _still_ haven't," Robin corrected her vaguely. "That was basic stuff. As the Flying Graysons, our specialty was aerialist work. You know, trapezes and stuff." He took back his jacket and pulled it on, zipping it up halfway up his chest.

"Yeah, I... Dick told me… that was how they died," Terra said quietly, practically whispering. "Your parents… fell…"

Robin pulled on his boots without a word, then buckled his belt back around his waist.

Silence.

"They were _murdered_," he answered finally, his voice harder than diamonds. "Murdered, just like Bruce's. Only… the death of Bruce's parents was a fluke; they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, according to Bruce. But _my_ parents… _Their_ death was organised, planned out… And _I_ was supposed to die with them…"

He took the Blood Diamond from Terra's outstretched hand and walked off ahead, clasping it back around his neck as he did so. Terra and Roy exchanged stricken glances before following him.

"Robin, I didn't mean to…" Terra trailed off. "Your parents, I mean… I didn't…"

"It's okay." Robin stopped and turned to look at them both. "You know, for the first time in my life – and probably the last, because I feel terrible for it – I'm actually… _glad_… that they aren't alive."

Terra and Arsenal both stared at him, speechless and wide-eyed.

"_Why?_" Terra asked him finally.

Robin turned on his heel and began to walk off ahead again.

"Because what I'm about to do… would break their hearts…"

He turned a corner and came to another doorway, blasting it apart as Terra and Arsenal caught up with him. He stepped in ahead of them, not wanting them to start talking to him again, apologising to him for something that wasn't their fault, and something they couldn't change.

Something _nobody_ could change.

The past; and, indeed, _this_.

The destiny of the Avenger.

Murderous, bad, evil destiny.

Oh, something _wicked_ this way comes indeed…

**TT**

Hey, remember last time I was talking about _The Number 23_? More _TT_-related interesting trivia!

Jim Carrey's character's (Walter Sparrow… with son, Robin Sparrow…) wife is called Agatha Sparrow. She is played by an actress called **Virginia Madsen**.

By odd coincidence, and particularly relevant to this chapter… Virginia Madsen also provided the voice of none other than **Arella** in the _Teen Titans_ episode _The Prophecy_.

Weird, huh?

Yes, yes, we all know that Ron Perlman is in _Hellboy_, Tara Strong is in almost every cartoon ever made (_Fairly Odd Parents_, _Teen Titans_, _Justice League_, _Kim Possible_… the list is endless) and that Scott Menville randomly shows up in various games, always sporting exactly the same voice…

But I thought that was cool.

Once again, please check out the teaser trailer, found on my profile!

RobinRocks xXx


	19. You Never Were

Oh dear oh dear oh dear…

Here we go again.

Well, my hearing is totally up the left because I went to see My Chemical Romance in concert last night at Cardiff International Arena; I failed my Car Theory Test AGAIN by **one** lousy measly friggin' point… AGAIN… Oh god, I don't even _like_ driving _anyway_, so this _isn't_ helping; I also wasted my Saturday night at a party which, in principle, sucked, especially after I ran out of people to bitch about – I could have used that Saturday night to write _Noir _(new Elseworlds _TT_ fic of mine, set in the 40s! Check it out!); oh, and according to TitansGonet, last Monday (19th March, 2007) Arnold Drake passed away.

Who was Arnold Drake?

A long-time DC comics writer, notably the creator of the Doom Patrol… and Beast Boy. Still, at least he got to see BB's animated counterpart; as did, obviously, Wolfman and Perez get to see Starfire, Cyborg and Raven. Bob Kane, who died in 1998, never got to see Robin… not that there haven't been like a gazillion other versions for him to see, in all fairness… In fact, the _Teen Titans_ version must be about the only version he _didn't_ see… O.o

Anyways, R.I.P to Arnold Drake.

Thankyou to; **Quinn and His Quill** (also known as The Sombrero Man; well, excuse me – I'll try and make the rest a little more mind-bending for you…); **Me** (I think you will be the first to read this, dude. And yes, Starfire IS better than Gizmo. Infinitely.); **Guardian of Azarath** (yes, Slade is here… hurrah!); **Dark Austral** (nyes, a sever situation indeed. There is a lot more Dick Grayson-ness a bit later, including some flashbacks! Yay!); **CrazyInsomniac** (I am glad you think so, anyway. Senators? Perhaps. And perhaps not.); **Anonymous** (okay, I'll update, whoever you are… O.o); **Kami-Elf** (I know, I know… he didn't do the dishes either. Let's face it; Robin sucks. I am sorry about your "boring" spring break, BTW…); **Simmie** (yes, Slade was would most certainly deserve getting killed…); **TheFallenAngel67** (of course I know about _Static Shock_! I love it! I used to prefer it to _TT_, but not now… As much as I love Static, _TT_ is a much better quality cartoon, can't be denied…); **LoopyLouise123** (more trivia for ya up there – including the fact that apparently me driving is not gonna happen… And the death of Arnold Drake, of course); and **TheLon3Wolf8986** (you'll get to see what Robin does right now…).

Other notes; the main fight scene here was replicated for the _Remember the Titans_ teaser chapter at the end of _Black Magic_. It's a little… "technical", since I actually did a ton of research on martial arts to write it. I can't remember what half of the moves look like now, but when I wrote it, I did "choreograph" it correctly. So… this is my most accurate fight scene ever. Yay. Uh, a _kobujutsu staff_ (shortened here to just _kobujutsu_) is like a bo staff, but a lot bigger. You know the big staff Katarou thieves in _The Quest_? That, to the best of my knowledge, is a kobujutsu fighting staff. And tonfas are… difficult to describe. Robin has them in one episode of _Teen Titans_ – _Deception_, I think. They're like wooden bars that go down the length of your forearm, and they have another shorter piece of wood jutting out to hold on to…

Wow. Great job there…

You Never Were

Leaving Terra and Arsenal a few steps behind him, Robin paused, looking around. The room he now found himself in was very dark and smelt of dust and dry rot.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Terra whispered as she and Arsenal approached Robin from behind.

"Come on, T," Arsenal snapped, sounding irritated. "We goin' the right way or not?"

"We _are_," Terra pressed, sounding equally pissed off. "I can sense every step he takes vibrating through the ground. I think he's pacing, probably waiting for midnight."

She pushed between the males and started across the room. She froze dead as the distinct sound of grinding gears became audible to all three of them, whispering through the shadows.

"What was that?" She hissed, hurriedly backing up against Arsenal.

"Dunno," Arsenal responded quietly, his voice savage. "But I'm guessing it's not the Welcoming Committee. You know, "Hi there! Welcome to Slade's Evil Domain! Enjoy your stay, and please deposit all trash in the litter baskets provided!". I mean, handing out pamphlets and stickers reading "I broke into Slade's Megalomaniac Ruler-of-Gotham Lair and lived to tell the tale" really isn't Slade's style."

"Roy, shut up," Terra whispered. "You're talking _crap_… as usual."

"Well, _excuse me_ for voicing my opinion," Roy muttered darkly, placing one of his prized steel-alloy tipped arrows into his quiver and pulling it back.

Robin ignored the pair of them, trying to concentrate. Since gaining his new powers, he seemed to be able to sense electrical charges, and he could sense them now – _hundreds_ of them.

And _that_ told him that the three of them were no longer alone.

He was proved right as light suddenly flared, lighting up the room, and exposing the masses – the entire _army_ – of amber and black robot commandos that promptly launched themselves at the trio.

"Pardon me for stealing your line, kid," Arsenal cried as the three of them sprang into action, "But… TITANS, _GO!_"

Robin and Terra obeyed him immediately, not so much because of his order, but the mere fact that they knew they would be slaughtered where they stood if they _didn't_.

Moving with the strength and power of lightning, Arsenal gut-slammed one of the robots and threw it into another, sending them both to the concrete floor where they lay in a tangled sparking heap. Almost sensing another one behind him, he spun into a powerful roundhouse kick (taught to him by Nightwing, but nobody needed to know that) and decapitated it with the sheer momentum of the blow. All this time, the arrow was still taut in his bow, and he used it now to stop a fourth commando in its tracks as it leapt for his head. Pulling three more electrically-charged ones from his pack, he aimed them skyward and shorted out an additional three pouncing headlong at him from an overhead metal-and-concrete balcony. He whipped around—

-And was sent to the floor with a cracking blow to his jaw. Arsenal landed on his back, his arrows digging into him sharply, and struggled to keep his grip on his quiver. He sat up, tasting blood and feeling the salty liquid spilling from his mouth, and was kicked in the ribs by the same commando. He crumpled, clutching at his ribcage, choking on blood as he tried to cough-

A thick pillar of rock exploded from beneath the commando that was looming over him, preparing to finish him, sending it sky-high and smashing it against the ceiling of the storage facility. Across the room, two more met the same fate, while an additional seven were crushed beneath a single boulder. Arsenal sat up, now finding Terra standing over him. He took the hand she was offering him and allowed her to help him up.

"I love you," he said matter-of-factly, clasping her small hand in both of his. "Let's get married and have thirty-seven children."

In response to his statement, Terra threw a punch at his face; too late to block, Arsenal merely cowered… and heard the crunch beyond his ear. He gingerly opened his eyes to see that Terra had once again just saved him, this time from being clubbed over the head by the minion standing right behind him. Said minion collapsed, sparking, its blank metal face smashed in.

Turning back to him, Terra raised her eyebrows.

"Why is it," she asked him dryly, "that you only ever say that whenever I save your sorry ass?"

Arsenal was caught off guard and subsequently floored. As he floundered for a response, Terra spotted the five other commandos already heading for them and went into action, leaving him standing there.

"Heads up, Roy, or you won't have a head at all!" She called cheerfully, crushing four minions in one easy sweep.

Muttering something that sounded distinctly like "Women", Arsenal took heed of her example.

A few feet away, Robin was having the easiest time he had ever had facing Slade's minions. Contrary to being mauled as was the usual procedure, he was simply moving in one long, smooth, unbroken movement; kicking, punching, and then shorting out with the tiniest flick of his fingers. However, although it was in no way a taxing practice, he could sense that his electricity flow was diminishing, and there certainly were an awful lot of them. If he took down one, there were another two in its place; if he shorted out five, another ten were already pouncing at him. He had never seen so many of them together, not even during the siege of Titans Tower a few months ago during his own time, the night of Terra's betrayal.

He decided to cut down on the electricity for a little while, hoping to replenish his supply, and instead took his staff from his belt to fight manually with. However, he had no sooner extended it when he was kicked in the stomach. He collapsed, surprised and thoroughly winded, and as he curled up to ease the pain he saw them all close in on him. He forced himself to his knees, placing his hands on the floor to ground himself, and sent a surge of high voltage ricocheting through them all. He staggered to his feet as the wall of them fell away, sparking and twitching, and saw Arsenal running towards him.

"It's okay, Arsenal," he said breathlessly, rubbing his stomach. "I'm fine…"

"With all due respect, kid, I'm less than worried about you," Arsenal replied in a business-like manner. "Come on, we have to get going, it's only seven minutes until midnight…"

Robin nodded, stiffening imperceptibly as Arsenal said it.

Terra joined them, pushing her hair back, and nodded. Arsenal caught it and was about to speak again-

As though the very corners of the room had suddenly exploded, hundreds more commandos were suddenly spewed from the shadows, an entire sea of black and amber…

Arsenal screamed several expletives in frustration and whipped around, taking Robin firmly by his shoulders.

"Alright, listen, kid," he said, his voice quick and hushed as Terra began the battle without him. "We don't have time for this shit, okay? Terra and I will handle this here and join you ASAP. But for now, you're going to have to go on alone…"

Robin paled, his blue eyes behind his mask becoming huge with fright. Arsenal frowned and sighed.

A little boy.

That's all he was, really. A child. He was giving these orders to a child.

But Robin was a child with a destiny – one that had to be fulfilled within the next seven minutes – and that made all the difference in the world.

"Straight ahead, Robin," Terra added breathlessly, coming to Arsenal's side. "Beyond this room is a corridor, and at the end is the room where Slade is—" She ducked a swipe from a commando and spun into a kick, getting rid of it momentarily. "But you have to _hurry!_ Go now! Roy and I can handle this no problem!"

Robin stared at them both for a little while longer, not truly believing that his destiny was finally upon him…

"_GO!_" Terra screamed at him, tearing up the floor as she spoke; next to her, Arsenal pulled back his bowstring…

Robin turned and ran without a backwards glance, his staff clutched tightly in one hand. Whenever a commando got in his way he launched himself at it and floored it, but he did not pick fights if they simply got out of his way. The doorway was ahead and he ran and ran and ran…

But they were chasing him now, losing interest in Terra and Arsenal now that they could see the Avenger attempting to escape. Yes, all of them; a seething mass pursuing him like an entire stampede, and he knew that if they caught him they would literally, _physically_ rip him apart…

…After all, that was what they had been _ordered_ to do…

Beneath his feet he could feel the floor beginning to shake, see cracks spreading like ripples on water, but still they chased him, even though plaster and chunks of stone were beginning to fall as the ceiling caved in. He quickly looked over his shoulder and saw that Terra's eyes were glowing gold; she was bringing it down, trying to give him a chance to escape…

He was less than a metre from the door-

"ROBIN, _DIVE!_" Terra screamed at him from across the room.

He obeyed, diving through the doorway and tumbling into a roll that was non-too-graceful. And just as he landed the entire doorway collapsed, a mountain of rubble from the ceiling closing it off, smashing the doorframe…

The commandos were now locked into the storage facility with Terra and Arsenal; at the _mercy_ of Terra and Arsenal…

Robin gingerly got to his feet. His brow-bone above his left eye was numb and he could feel blood trickling down the side of his face, and decided that he must have hit his head when he had landed. It was, however, far too dark to inspect the damage, and anyway, he didn't have a mirror.

Or a torch, for that matter…

From what he could see, the corridor was utterly demolished, rubble and twisted metal and the like lying everywhere. There was little to no light, and he clambered awkwardly over the many obstacles as quickly as he could, falling more than once.

Further down, the corridor fell into pitch darkness, but Robin knew that he was running very short of time and attempted to hasten his pace. This, unfortunately, proved to be a bad idea, as he discovered when he attempted to leap a boulder, completely misjudged its location and consequently ended up in a heap.

He landed on top of a twisted piece of metal girder and had to bite his lip to stop from screaming at the initial contact. He lay there for a few seconds, rigid with agony, then rolled over, moaning under his breath. He struggled to his feet and the entire piece of metal shifted and slipped, clanging loudly. From high above him came a sudden flurry of wings – a sound that was very familiar to one such as Robin the Boy Wonder – and suddenly he found himself surrounded by frightened, unsettled bats, all squeaking and screeching and beating their tiny leathery wings and scratching at him as though it was _his_ fault. He put his arms up to protect his face and instead they tore at the sleeves of his leather jacket as he moved forwards; there were so many of them and they were smothering him, as though deliberately, and truthfully he never _had_ liked bats all that much…

He came to the door with a sense of almost-but-not-quite-relief, still with the macabre swarm of bats around him like a cloud, as though _he_ himself was Batman.

But he wasn't; he knew he wasn't.

He was Robin; Richard Grayson; the Boy Wonder; the Teen Titans' leader.

The Avenger.

And he knew what he had to do.

He grounded himself and kicked the door in; weakened with age and disrepair, the steel-riveted door fell away and clanged noisily on the floor of the dimly-lit room beyond. Clutching his staff, Robin stepped through, and the bats, now given sudden extra space, left him as one single unit, flitting for the rafters of this new room.

The room was fairly small, dark but lit with many candles scattered all about it – and on every given surface, not to mention the floor – and in the very middle of the floor was a huge circle, drawn with a blood-red powder. Magical, definitely, with strange runes and symbols around the edges. In the very middle, surrounded by red candles, sat the Orb of Azarath, glittering in the candlelight, as though mocking him, daring him to take it.

However, as he looked around again, there was no sign of anything that he would have thought to be the key.

Nor, indeed, was there any sign of Slade.

_Fine, if he's not even gonna show…_

Robin briskly made for the circle, his primary attention on the Orb of Azarath, slipping his retracted staff back into his belt. He had since come up with an infinitely better plan than the original "Kill-Slade-and-fulfil-his-destiny" one – swipe the orb and leg it. No fuss, no blood, and no getting his ass kicked…

He stepped into the circle and walked right across it towards the orb; looking down, he recognised the symbols to be Azarathian lettering. Well, _that_ figured, and although he certainly had no idea what they said, he had a feeling that he didn't want to either…

"Now, Robin… Surely you didn't think it was going to be _that_ easy, did you?"

Robin froze right in the centre of the magical circle, recognising Slade's voice. The Orb of Azarath momentarily forgotten, he whipped around to see Slade leaning with his arms folded against the far wall. There was a heavy gold pocket watch clutched in one hand. He looked no different at all, even fifteen years later, for even his costume had not changed in the slightest, but that was not what surprised Robin. It was the fact that Slade did not seem in the least bit surprised to see him; the fifteen-year-younger version of the man he had shot to pieces not even three years before.

"What?" Slade chuckled slightly, the sound chilling. "Don't look so surprised; I have, after all, been expecting you."

Robin blinked, again words failing him.

Slade unfolded his arms and approached him; and, from the shadows, Robin saw emerge a frail old woman, her wild iron-grey hair loose and straggly down her back and over her shoulders, and she wore crimson acolyte's robes.

The seer.

His heart skipped a beat.

_Her eyes…_

Brilliant glittering emerald green. Just like the Master of Time's, just like that biker guy's, and just like Seth Elliott's…

_Coincidence?_

He was seriously beginning to doubt it…

She came to rest at Slade's side where he stood beyond the circle, the gaze of his solitary icy grey eye fixed on the boy he hated so much.

The boy that, despite meeting his end in _this_ time three years previous, still stood before him now, restored to the form – a teenager, and a Teen Titan – that Slade despised most of all.

The form in which he had failed to corrupt him, and failed to destroy him.

_Robin_; not Nightwing.

"You _are_ cutting it rather fine, however," Slade went on lazily, consulting the intricate gold pocket watch in his hand. "Only three minutes to midnight. I must admit that I feared you were not going to show up at all…"

Robin forced a laugh.

"What, and miss this? Not a chance!"

"Indeed." Slade discarded the watch unceremoniously, his gaze still fixed on Robin. "No matter; three minutes is more than enough to dispatch you once and for all, sweet Avenger…"

Fifteen years had not eroded Slade's fighting technique, heightening it beyond proportion instead, as Robin soon discovered; Slade moved faster than Robin could follow – although maybe the shadows of the room helped – and leapt into a flying roundhouse kick. It caught Robin full-on in the chest and threw him so far backwards that the boy couldn't quite believe the distance he had enthused when he painfully staggered to his feet. He clutched at the diamond, trying to straighten up.

He was losing already.

With three – probably less than that now – minutes until midnight, Slade certainly wasn't in a mood for toying, as he usually was. As he had so clearly stated, the need to dispatch the Avenger ASAP was painfully prominent, and for whatever else he was, Slade was a man who got things done.

Slade was upon him again, but this time Robin was ready for him, snapping an axe kick at the villain's head. For once his short stature worked for him – his heel caught Slade squarely in the chin, snapping his head back. Using it to his advantage, Robin spun into a back kick, using his heel again – and the sharp, heavy edge of his steel sole – to catch Slade in the solar plexus. Slade stumbled and doubled over, able to do little else. Robin spun again, 180°, into a reverse kick, knocking Slade right off his feet.

Karate. Taekwondo.

Robin handsprung right over Slade's fallen form, darting towards the orb again. Slade swore obscenely at him, already getting up. Robin ignored him, his attention on the Orb of Azarath—

-And suddenly the seer was in front of him. Robin attempted to sidestep her, but found it quite impossible; she seemed to know which way he was going to move every time.

"Get out of the _way!_" He snapped at her, frustrated and desperate beyond belief.

She smiled indulgently, shaking her head.

Furious, and very out of character, he snapped a hook kick at her head. She raised her arm, taking the blow, then twisted her hand over and grasped his ankle, the movement faster than his eyes could follow. She held him there for a few agonizing seconds—

-Then threw him to the ground, where he landed painfully on his back.

"This is the first time I have met you, Avenger," she said, smirking, as she leaned over him. "But already I have decided that you are insolent, and that you are terribly impatient, and that you are exceedingly arrogant. I don't like you very much at all, dear boy. Isn't that a sin; for me to dislike you already, when we have only just met?"

Robin propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze meeting hers, blue penetrating green; a green that he had seen before…

"I doubt that," he spat in reply.

Her smile only deepened as he got to his feet. He stood facing her, and only the slight raise of her eyebrows informed him that Slade was behind him. Instinctively he whipped around, taking the hammer blow aimed at his head on his forearm in a knife block. He snapped a switch kick at Slade's stomach again, hoping to get him where he was already weakened, but Slade deflected it, instead bringing his knee up to meet Robin's chin with a sickening crunch. The Boy Wonder was thrown back to the ground, landing a few feet away.

Robin got to his knees, almost retching at the taste of blood in his mouth. His jaw was screaming with pain, but he could still move it, so he knew it wasn't broken. The blood streaming from his mouth, however, would have given anyone the impression to think otherwise. He wiped it away and spat onto the floor, astounded at the amount of blood. The cut above his left eye still bled too, although it was beginning to slow and congeal.

Slade started for him, cracking his knuckles, but the seer intercepted him.

"What are you-" Slade started furiously.

"Silence, boy." From each of her wide crimson sleeves the seer magically drew two beautifully decorated kobujutsu staffs, like a magician draws a string of coloured handkerchiefs from his empty hat; both crafted from shining wood, one a darker shade than the other, one with crimson and gold details at either end, the other with black and silver, these staffs were longer than Robin and Slade's favoured bo staff, and required more masterful and complex use.

The seer roughly slung one – the darker one, with black and silver detailing – at Slade; she threw the other, the lighter red and gold one, at the floor next to where Robin was struggling to his feet, repeatedly wiping his streaming chin.

"One minute until midnight, boys," she said, the gold watch materialising in her hand. "Make it good."

She stepped back, right into the middle of the magical circle, watching happily as the Avenger got to his feet, his kobujutsu staff clutched uncertainly in one hand; watching happily as Slade closed in on him, holding his own staff with much more confidence.

Robin was only sixteen; Slade, in _this_ time, was well in his forties, although his physique did not show it.

Of _course_ he had more fighting expertise; he had been around much longer.

Robin struggled with the kobujutsu; still only a teenager, and untrained in the art of it, he was unable to use it properly. It was only his knowledge of how to use a bo staff that saved him from being completely battered by Slade, who was much more able with it. He used basic blocks and defences, but his strikes were clumsy and mistimed because it was much bigger than what he was used to. Every time he tried to ditch it and go to his belt for his own retractable staff Slade would swing at him and he would be forced to block; until, finally, Slade kicked straight out at him—

-Robin blocked it with the staff but the momentum of the kick was such that it snapped the wood right in half. Slade recoiled his leg, still clutching his own kobujutsu, and Robin found himself standing backed against the wall, one half of his own crimson and gold staff grasped incredulously in each hand.

Slade smirked beneath his mask and moved in on Robin, striking at him mercilessly with his own unscathed kobujutsu. Robin ducked and dodged, using his acrobatic ability to twist into the most impossible of positions to avoid being smacked over the head by Slade's heavy wooden staff, and eventually saw an opening. He darted behind Slade, suddenly having much more room.

"Richard Grayson!"

The seer called his name sharply and he turned to her automatically. With a flourish she drew two more weapons from her flowing sleeves; beautifully crafted solid oak tonfas. She threw them to him and he caught them almost involuntarily.

Slade, distracted somewhat by this sudden act of charity, stared at her.

"Whose fucking side are you _on_, woman?!" He yelled at her.

The seer turned her stony green gaze on him.

"Don't use that disgusting language, boy," was all she said.

Robin turned away from her to Slade, dazed; for someone who thought him insolent and impatient and arrogant and all-over detestable, she was certainly being very nice to him…

Slade came at him full-force, enraged beyond belief now, and Robin gripped the tonfas confidently; now these he _did_ know how to use…

Robin felt the force of the blow of Slade's kobujutsu as he took it against the tonfas, their hard wood reinforcing his forearms ten-fold. He spun into a roundhouse kick as Slade drew back for another strike, breaking the momentum of the blow. Slade twisted the angle of the kobujutsu and Robin blocked again, taking it on his left tonfa. He followed the block through, jabbing his elbow downwards, driving the part of the tonfa that extended beyond his elbow into Slade's gut. Slade cursed and doubled up, already weakened by the kick to his solar plexus. Robin paused, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet; analysing, debating…

Slade threw himself into the hesitant Boy Wonder, knocking him heavily onto his back and pinning him there. The kobujutsu went like a bar across the boy's throat, strangling him, and pinned to the floor, Robin was unable to retaliate. He pushed against the heavy staff with his tonfas but he simply wasn't strong enough to heave Slade off him.

Being sweet sixteen really wasn't all it was cracked up to be…

"Goodbye, Robin," Slade hissed. "See you in Hell…"

And suddenly, as his vision slowly blacked, as Slade exerted more pressure on the kobujutsu, the ground began to shake.

_Terra?..._

Air flooded into his lungs as Slade suddenly removed the kobujutsu, and Robin sat up, coughing and massaging his throat, his jaw still spilling blood. He froze up as he saw that Slade was straddling him, his knees on either side of his teen arch-nemesis' hips, and their crotches were way too close for comfort, but in truth Slade wasn't even paying any attention to him. He probably didn't even _realise_, Robin reasoned, but that still didn't make him feel any better…

Certainly Slade was preoccupied from murdering him, and the ground was still shaking, and from out of the corner of his eye Robin could see red light spreading to his right. Forcing himself to ignore Slade – and their… _interesting_ position – Robin looked to his right.

The old woman was standing in the middle of the magical circle, which was now glowing crimson, a glittering red forcefield around it that was spreading, filling the entire room with that blinding scarlet light… She was smirking as her iron-grey hair whipped around her wrinkled face, and in one hand was the heavy gold watch.

The face showed that it was midnight.

As though suddenly being released from a state of suspended animation, Slade was off Robin faster than the Boy Wonder had _ever_ seen him move before, darting towards the circle, still absently clutching the kobujutsu.

_Oh no you don't…_

Robin shot a spark of electricity at him, catching the villain on his left heel as he bolted for the circle. Although it didn't hurt him, it certainly startled him enough to make him lose his balance and send him sprawling.

Landing flat on his masked face, Slade rolled over just in time to see Robin leaping headlong at him, swinging his right elbow – armed with a reinforced tonfa – at his face. Slade swung his feet up and cracked the boy in the chest, throwing him backwards before the blow could connect.

Robin landed painfully and tumbled over and over, eventually scraping to a halt but minus both his tonfas – they were lying discarded in opposite directions. He struggled to his knees, spitting out more blood, and watched helplessly as Slade reached the magical circle.

However, as the villain attempted to enter it, the blood-red force-field sparked and crackled and seemed to explode outwards at his touch, throwing him clear across the room. He landed in a crumpled, smouldering heap a few feet away from Robin.

Utterly astonished – and now even _more_ terrified – Robin looked back at the circle. The red glow now seemed to encompass the entire room, and was such that Robin had to shield his eyes; he could, however, see the old woman laughing, even though he could not hear her screams of malicious mirth.

In her hand, the minute hand of the watch moved in a tiny ticking movement.

It was midnight no longer.

The glow died, seeming to be sucked inwards, back into the powdered markings of the magical circle. The wind that had whipped the seer's hair had died too, as had her laughter – now she simply smiled at them both, the watch still in her withered hand, the Orb of Azarath glittering at her feet.

Robin shakily got to his feet, his breath barely coming at all, so that he felt light-headed. Inside, he felt numb, not sure whether he should be utterly elated or seriously terrified. What did this _mean?_ Was it… _over?_...

The seer was gazing at him, her glittery-green eyes boring into him.

Waiting for him to speak, to move…

To question.

Robin wiped his mouth slowly, his black leather glove coming away wet and shining with blood. Behind his mask, his blue eyes met the gaze of her green ones.

"I'm not the Avenger anymore," he said finally, his voice firm, sounding far more confident that he felt.

Her reply, however, threw him completely, igniting a million questions within him, all demanding answers, all demanding a _reason_…

She smiled lazily at him, taking him in; his entire slight, pale, blood-soaked, black leather-clad form.

The Avenger…

…Or _not_…

"Dear boy," she said softly, "My dear, sweet Richard… You never _were_…"

**TT**

Okay, time to come clean:

I've been throwing you for a loop about a lot of stuff so far.

The above included.

Heh heh.

RobinRocks xXx


	20. Circus Boy

Well, 'tis the end of "Robining Season". By Robining Season, I mean the end of March. By the end of March, I mean that Robin is no longer the featured Titan on my _Teen Titans_ calendar, and that I now have to put up with the _wonderful_ Mas y Menos… Eh heh heh heh… In other news, it is the start of the Easter holidays here in the UK – I have since learned from my buddy Narroch that the US doesn't get a two-week holiday at Easter, so finally it seems that (in the absence of a graduation ceremony, more than two extracurricular clubs _and_ cheerleaders) my crappy little British school has a perk. Yay for me. But I digress. The reason that I was pointing out that it was the Easter holidays was to point out that it is exactly three years since I first saw the wonderful _Teen Titans_ Season Two. Easter holidays, 2004, and there's me sitting cursing that I had picked up the original _New Teen Titans_ comic where Terra is actually revealed to be a traitor not even a month beforehand. I didn't even know who she was, and certainly didn't she was going to be in the cartoon. But as soon as I saw her, I was like; "She's bad". It kind of ruined it for me, but whatever. I still enjoyed the season very much indeed. And I just pointed that out because this fic is set in Season Two, and… um…

O.o

Uh, well, you all had kind of the reactions I had anticipated (in reference to the revelation at the end of the last chapter), and that's good, I guess. But I have many more surprises, some of which come in this chapter right here. Ka ka ka. :)

Thankyou to; **Me** (yes, I am evil. :D); **KGDiva** (outrageous? Why, yes indeed, it _is_. How dare I.); **LoopyLousise123** (sly fox. Heh heh. Anyone seeing a pattern here?); **Dark Austral** (the seer is gonna be sorted out right here, right now for ya…); **Amara-chan** (okay, so I didn't update as fast as humanly possible, but at least everyone else has suffered with you… :P); **Quinn and His Quill** (Slade is NOT the Avenger, Quinny-Boy, so _ha_! Although you _are_ right about a lot of other things, as shall be revealed now…); **Narroch** (oh, you knew I was evil before _this_…); **Guardian of Azarath **(all will be revealed soon, my fellow Brit!); **Luneko** (um, is your head unexploded now? Because you can't read my fic with your head exploded…); **Amber 13** (yeah, the site has been playing up quite a bit recently, but I never took _RTT_ down…); **Yami-Tai** (mm, good theory on the Master of Time. And yeah, no-one tells Robin _anything_…); **Kami-Elf** (uh, hope the aspirin worked…?); **Someone** (oh, well, I'm glad you like it, whoever you are! Thanks!); and **Jennie** (new reviewer, with mucho reviews! Thankyou soooo much! Glad you like my lil' story enough to have sat for a whole day reading the whole lot… O.o _ALL_ of your questions _will_ be answered, but right now… well, _not_ right now, as it is. But you will get them, and thankyou for all the reviews on this, and _Underneath Your Clothes_, and _Lace and Leather_, and… you reviewed so much, I can't even remember now…. But thankyoooooou!).

Those who dropped out waaaay back don't know what they're missing…

Namely having an excuse to yell at me in a review. Heh heh.

And now, on with my vile little show…

Circus Boy

"_Dear boy," she said softly, "My dear, sweet Richard… You never were…"_

Robin's entire vocabulary escaped him – he tried to speak but the words wouldn't come to his lips; his mind was blank.

Blank but for three words;

You. Never. Were.

_You never were…_

The seer's indulgent smile only deepened at his utterly gobsmacked expression.

"Such a blow to you, I see," she whispered, shaking her head. "All this time you thought that you were truly _worth_ something, somebody that was destined to save the world… and now you see that you are _nothing_." Her smile twisted. "You never _have_ been, circus boy, and you never _will_ be…"

"There's…" He struggled with the words, as though trying to speak a foreign language. "There's… no Avenger?..."

The old woman clasped her hands together.

"That is correct."

"Why? How?... I just… I can't…"

She chuckled slightly as he floundered, confused and bewildered.

A small, vulnerable creature, suddenly snared in an inescapable net.

"There's no Avenger, Richard," she said, her voice mockingly gentle. "In fact, there is no _anything_. There is no _prophecy_, as a matter of fact… Well, at least not the one you and I now converse of."

"I…" His dark eyebrows knitted together. "And I suppose you're… you're not really a seer?"

The old woman snorted.

"Of course not. In fact, I'm not even an _old woman_…"

"You _aren't?_" Robin's voice was weak, but actually he wasn't truly surprised…

"She" uttered a short, sharp laugh.

"What, you think I'm truly this ugly?..."

He merely stared at her; he was utterly incapable of doing anything else.

Even as he watched her form begin to melt, taking another shape, the way Beast Boy did. A shape-shifter, certainly, but not merely of the animalistic variety. "She" was far more, something magical and powerful…

Something, or _someone_, he had met before.

Within that half-melted state, "she" straightened up, grew taller, became trimmer, tighter. "Her" entire form changed, from that of an old woman to a young man. Iron-grey straggled wisps darkened, thickened, falling in spiky ebony waves around the shoulders; crimson robes became black, with black leather pants and a white polo neck sweater beneath. The wrinkles on the surface smoothed out, the pale translucent skin Robin recognised as being Azarathian becoming flawless.

The eyes – those brilliant emerald eyes – stayed the same.

Perfectly solid, perfectly handsome, and perfectly _male_, Seth Elliott fished into his pocket, seemingly ignoring Robin completely, as the boy stared at him, speechless even for his suspicions.

He lit himself up a cigarette with a flicker of blue fire that he drew from his fingertips, taking a huge drag and blowing it into the air. Through the cloud of it, he finally directed his glittering gaze towards Robin.

He grinned.

"This is the part where you say; "I knew it all along, you devious scoundrel, you!"…"

Robin stared at him still.

"Or maybe I've read too many _Famous Five_ books," Seth reasoned, putting his cigarette to his lips again.

"I… I _did_ know," Robin said eventually, his words forced. He looked at Seth's eyes, seeing them glint maliciously at him.

"Of _course_ you did," Seth replied patronisingly. "That's why you believed everything I ever told you, "Avenger"…"

"No." Robin shook his head. "No, I… not _that_. You had me… I mean, I really _did_ believe that… I just…" He paused, frustrated. "I knew it was _you_. The seer, I mean. The second I saw her… I knew it was you."

"Yeah?" Seth sounded as though he was going to burst out laughing. "Go on, then, Mr Boy Sidekick-of-the-World's-Greatest Detective-Wonder; _indulge_ me…"

"Your eyes." Robin raised his chin defiantly as he saw Seth raise his eyebrows. "It's your eyes, and…" He trailed off, realising… "And… and the Master of Time! That was _you_ as well, wasn't it?!"

Seth smirked.

"Guilty as charged," he replied. "I'm a shape-shifter, biatch." He shook his head in mock-disappointment. "But you fail to see _all_, Boy Wonder." He snorted. "Some detective…"

Robin frowned, wracking his brain…

He sighed heavily.

"The guy on the motor bike?..."

"Obviously." Seth took another puff of his cigarette. "Keep going…"

"I… I don't…"

"Come on now, this is hardly _Charades_!" Seth snapped.

"But I—" He cut himself off with a tiny sharp cry as he felt a sudden stinging pain at his wrist; and remembering the "A" carved there (and the implications of that), it hit him over the head with all the subtlety of a brick.

"Cordelia Silver?"

"Naturally. One of my more attractive disguises…"

Robin's masked eyes narrowed, his wrist still aching.

"_Why?_ Why do all this? You said that there isn't even a prophecy-"

"No," Seth interrupted airily. "I said that the prophecy to which _you_ were referring was non-existent. The prophecy concerning the mortal gods, and the "Avenger"… none of it's real. I made it all up."

Robin stared at him all over again.

"_Why?_" He asked eventually, not being able to comprehend why Seth would waste a whole sixteen years of his life for a "prophecy"; one which he had made up.

"Because it was necessary." Seth raised his eyebrows and looked over Robin's shoulder. "Oh, I see our little rapist has awoken. How quaint…"

Robin whipped around, his attention momentarily averted from Seth. True to Seth's word, Slade was getting shakily to his feet, his single grey eye – wide – fixed on the Ex-Head Senator of the Azarathian Senate.

Suddenly furious, Robin turned back to Seth.

"Rapist?..." Robin clenched his fists so tightly that it hurt. "But _you're_ the seer! _You're_ the one that made him do it!!!"

"As part of the prophecy."

"BUT THERE _IS_ NO FUCKING PROPHECY!" Robin screamed at him. "You just _said_ there wasn't!"

Seth raised his eyebrows again.

"A tender subject, I see."

"I… I…" Robin put his hands to his hair, tugging at his jet spikes in frustration. "You… he… I… I still have _nightmares_ about it, you bastard! And it was bad _enough_, thinking that he did it because he _had_ to, because it would fulfil a prophecy, and _now_… Now it was all for _nothing?_..."

Seth smirked.

"Oh, not for _nothing_. I had my reasons."

"Then explain them."

Slade.

He was standing behind Robin, his powerful arms folded, but at this moment in time he was not interested in Robin – the common enemy now was _Seth_, and whether they liked it or not, Robin and Slade were against him together. Robin tensed up slightly as he sensed Slade's presence behind him, but did not turn to him; at this drastic time, he would rather have had his back to _Slade_ than to _Seth_. As far as he knew, _Slade_ didn't have some kind of knife on him, at least, metaphorical or otherwise…

Seth snorted with laughter, taking another puff of his cigarette.

"_Ooh_, I feel so _threatened_…" He laughed, a certain arrogance laced within the mirthful sound. "You honestly think that you could pose a _threat_ to me, you pathetic mortals?... I could blow you apart from the inside out by snapping my fingers…"

"But you won't."

Robin was surprised at the confidence in Slade's voice as the masked villain spoke from behind him.

Seth waved his cigarette lazily.

"You're _right_, of course," he agreed breezily. "But why are you so sure of it?"

Slade's solitary grey eye narrowed.

"Because you _need_ us. _Both_ of us."

Seth laughed.

"Obviously. Otherwise I'd have killed you both by now, right?..."

"Right." Slade didn't seem too perplexed by the revelation. "Would you care to explain yourself, then, or do we just have to sit about until you decide it is a fit time to do away with our pathetic hides?"

Seth raised his dark eyebrows.

"You know, I never _did_ like you much, Slade," he said somewhat cautiously. "You're an arrogant bastard."

"The feeling is mutual," Slade replied calmly, "as is the statement."

Seth shrugged, then consulted the watch in his hand. For the first time – some detective – Robin recognised it to be the same one that had hung around the "Master of Time's" neck.

At last things were beginning to come together. The "seer" had set up for Slade to perform the "Summoning Ritual" tonight; simultaneously, the "Master of Time" had told Robin to come here, the sole intent of both actions being to bring Robin and Slade together now, at this time – the two pawns in Seth's malicious game.

Although… the Slade here now was not the Slade of Robin's own time, nor, vice versa, was _he_ from _this_ time, but a time fifteen years previous to this one. Why did he suddenly get a horrible feeling that Seth's plan, if it could be called that, was much wider-spread than he had anticipated?...

"Well, seeing as we have time to kill, I guess it can't hurt to explain everything to the pair of you," Seth sighed, pocketing the watch. "It will, after all, be the last thing you will ever know in your futile and pathetic lives…"

"First," he went on breezily, "let me separate fact from fiction. I may have made up the "prophecy" – at least, the one I relayed to you both – but much of the legend that surrounds the orb is true. It _is_ a vessel harbouring extreme power, and it _does_ require the fulfilment of a prophecy and the possession of a key to unlock this power. _That_, however, is where the truth of my tale ends. The power within it was not torn from _monsters_…" His green eyes glittered strangely, sending a chill down Robin's spine. "…It was torn from _me_."

"But you _have_ powers!" Robin burst out. "The shape-shifting, the magic…"

"Oh, yes, I am not completely _powerless_, I admit," Seth agreed languidly. "Arella was not so cruel as to leave me with _nothing_, even _after_ I tried to take control of Azarath all those centuries ago…"

"So… there _were_ no monsters?" Slade asked, his eye narrowing.

"Nope," Seth clarified cheerfully, taking another puff of his cigarette. "It was _I_ that tried to take control of that wretched dimension, but that witch showed up with her army and stopped me. But it did not end _there_, you understand; she stripped me of my dangerous powers, locking them away within the Orb of Azarath. She did, however, leave me with things she considered to be less dangerous – my uncanny ability of shape-shifting into any form I choose, even being able to turn myself into an exact duplicate of another, for example. Even so, it did not come without strings; even though I could still change my form, she cursed me so that people would still recognise me…"

"Your eyes…" Robin realised. "You can't change your eyes…"

"Right. No matter what form I take, my eyes always stay the same green. At first it appears to make little difference, but by the end of this little escapade, _you_ had begun to work it out, Robin. It is most annoying… She left me with some basic magical powers also, and without realising it, she also left me with my control over will. I can quite literally force people to do what I want, and they don't object. They become my puppet."

"You did that to Marcus," Robin remembered. "In Azarath; Raven said you did it to Marcus, to make him agree with you. You did it to the entire Senate…"

"Oh right, like that was the first time I had done it," Seth snorted. His green eyes glittered wickedly at Robin. "But he's not the _only_ one I've done it to." He looked from Robin to Slade and then back again, grinning. "_You two_ have both fallen victim to it also."

Robin blinked.

"We have?"

"Oh yes, many times," Seth informed him. "Whenever you've had an urge to do something, but haven't known why… that's been me _forcing_ you to do something. It's mostly been little things, but there was that one time when I made you both do something very unpleasant indeed…"

Robin cocked his head, looking at Seth in confusion, thinking hard…

His masked eye widened, remembering…

That night in Arkham Asylum, preceding the rape, he and Slade – the Slade of his own time – had kissed, touched each other, practically made out… and neither of them had known why. Something had been… _forcing_ them…

Robin stared at him, aghast.

"That was _you?_..." He asked faintly.

Seth smiled, nodding slightly.

"_Why_, goddamn you?!" Slade spat from behind Robin, his fists clenching, before the Boy Wonder could offer an outraged, disgusted outburst of his own.

Seth looked at them both as though he thought them stupid.

"Because it was _funny_," he said, tossing his head slightly. "Why else?"

They were speechless; the both of them – arch-villain, Teen Titan, both speechless…

Seth sighed.

"Well, it was funny from where _I_ was standing…"

"Then you were _there_," Robin whispered. "Somehow, you were _there_, _watching_ us…"

Seth smiled oddly.

"Oh, yes; it was really rather amusing, actually…"

"Wh-when did you leave?"

"I didn't." Seth nodded pertly at Slade. "Had to make sure _he_ did his job, didn't I?"

The rape; that terrible, painful, frightening, homosexual rape…

"_You watched it?_..." Robin asked weakly.

His insides heaved involuntarily as Seth nodded in assertion.

_Okay, here comes my lunch…_

"You can't _do_ that!" Robin snapped, near tears despite his anger. "You can't just… just…"

Seth snorted.

"Of course I can; after all, you're only _mortals_…"

"Then what are _you?_" Slade challenged him.

Seth turned his attention to him, ignoring the quivering, furious Robin.

"You pose an interesting question," he acknowledged, putting his head to one side. "I suppose you could call me Azarathian. I was certainly born there, and I believe that my father was Azarathian. My mother was a demon, part of a clan, if you will, of women who appeared beautiful on the surface, but who were in fact terrible murderous flesh-eaters beneath. Legend says that they were like mermaids, luring handsome young men to them with empty promises, then killing and devouring them. However, I believe that my mother became carried away; although she most certainly killed my father when she was done with him, she became impregnated by him."

"And this was _how_ long ago?" Slade bit out, sounding irritated.

"Hmm…" Seth looked at the ceiling, thinking. "Gosh, I don't know now… Seven hundred years ago, maybe? Perhaps more; I can't remember…"

Robin and Slade stared at him, speechless, neither of them sure whether Seth was having them on or not; he certainly didn't _look_ as though he was seven hundred-odd years old. He didn't look a day older than twenty-seven, at the _most_, but then Robin remembered his ability to shape-shift. And if he truly _was_ that old, then he was clearly not human; maybe he simply _couldn't_ age.

Slade seemed somewhat impressed, although still pissed off.

"So what _are_ you?"

"I was just establishing that when you so rudely interrupted me," Seth replied snippily. "_As_ I was saying…. Whoever my father was, he got my mother pregnant, and being an uncivilised demon living in the wilderness of Azarath seven hundred years ago, it wasn't like she could phone up and book an abortion. She probably didn't even _realise_ she was pregnant, stupid whore…"

Robin blinked at the contempt in Seth's voice as he spoke of his mother. But then, she had been, as Seth had said, an uncivilised demon.

Not Mary Grayson.

"I've been told that she staggered through the civilisation to the Senate House one night," Seth went on, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Heavily pregnant, in labour, and _dying_." He smiled thinly. "Ironic; she killed others with teeth and claws and brute strength, yet a mere baby – her _own child_ – killed _her_. The Senate of the time were loathe to bring her in, but being the compassionate saps that they are in Azarath, they treated her, helped her to give birth. She died within minutes of my birth, apparently." He snorted. "I'm sure she would have made a _fine_ mother… Due to my heritage, I'm surprised that they didn't drown me there and then, but of course they aren't like that in Azarath, are they?"

Seth turned his glittering gaze on Robin.

"If they _were_, your friend Raven would not be here either," he said softly. "Being what she is and all."

Robin frowned.

"The daughter of Trigon?"

"And a whole lot more." Seth tapped his nose and winked. "But that would be _telling_, wouldn't it?"

Seth went on with his tale before Robin could even open his mouth to demand more information;

"My true name isn't "Seth"," he explained. "Shortly after my birth I was baptised by the monks of Azar and given the name "Sen'th'azar"."

"_Sen'th'azar?_" Robin repeated incredulously before he could stop himself.

"It's no more amusing than "Dick", now is it?" Seth replied nastily.

Robin's cheeks flushed pink and he was about to fire off that "Dick" was short for Richard, not meant in the _other_ way, but Seth headed him off;

"It's Azarathian for "Prophet of Azar". Throughout my childhood, brought up in a way similar to your friend Raven, I was addressed as Sen'th'azar. I learned magic, necromancy, and studied various forms of other arts, like scrying and summoning, from the monks of Azar. I was skilled at it, and coupled with my own abilities – from both my demon mother and Azarathian father – I became very powerful. I became a member of the Senate Council when I was nineteen. However…" Seth sighed, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"I grew bored," he went on. "Being a senator wasn't what I had anticipated; all we ever did was hold meetings about nothing. Instead I used my granted access to the Senate House Library and began to read the forbidden books in the vaults. I honed the skills I gained from them, sharpened my own powers, planning… You could say those books tainted me; however, most would have you believe that I was tainted from the very moment I was conceived. Whichever it was, I used my powers to take over Azarath. I killed the entire Senate, bathed all of Azarath in a tide of blood and fire. With the Senate gone, the people of Azarath were terrified of me. However, my reign did not last long…"

Seth paused in his narrative, flicking his almost-done cigarette to the floor, where he crushed it underfoot. He immediately fished out another from one of his pockets and lit it up.

"Not even a month after my ascension as ruler of Azarath," he went on as though nothing had happened, "_she_ came." There was real bitterness and hatred in his voice as he said "she". "That damned Arella. In Azarathian her name means "messenger angel", and how _fitting_. When she arrived with her army of Warriors of the Sky, as she called them, the Azarathians believed that she had been sent by Azar to save them. Using the necromancy taught to me in my youth by the monks I had called upon an army of the Dead to serve me, but her warriors cut them down effortlessly. But when she and I finally faced off, I thought – perhaps arrogantly so – that I would win; she seemed so much weaker than I, and perhaps she _was_. But admittedly, she was also cleverer, and she trapped me within a binding spell. Unable to move, and unable to call upon my own powers, I was helpless, and she took them from me, locking them within the Orb of Azarath. _However_…" Seth smirked slightly around his cigarette, seemingly amused. "My life-force had become dependent on my powers. When she took them from me… she _killed_ me."

Robin blinked, not expecting this revelation.

"You're _dead?_" He repeated weakly.

Seth nodded slightly.

"Technically, yes," he replied flippantly. "But not _literally_. It's sort of complicated. My soul had, in effect, merged with the very core of my powers, so when she took them from me, she took my soul too. Realising what she had done – because they're all so bloody _compassionate_ over there – she unlocked the orb and put some back into me; the ones she believed to be unthreatening. Shape-shifting, for example, and basic magic. She didn't know that control over will had also escaped back into me, and I wasn't likely to tell her. However, once she had unlocked the orb after sealing it, it couldn't be "sealed again for all eternity". Instead she bound it by a prophecy, one that she intended to never be fulfilled."

Seth sighed and smiled.

"But she was _wrong_," he went on happily, "because the fulfilment is almost upon us."

Despite their standing as mortal enemies, Robin and Slade exchanged bewildered looks.

"You said there _was_ no prophecy," Slade pointed out.

"No, I said that the one I told _you_ – the one I have been lying to you about for fifteen years - was a lie," Seth corrected. "For you to understand completely, you must let me go on."

He took another drag on his cigarette, reminiscing.

"She also implanted some curses upon me," he went on bitterly. "Remember that she had already technically destroyed me; even now I have less than a quarter of my soul within me. The rest of it is within the Orb of Azarath; without it, technically I am dead. I have not aged a day since she took my powers, even though I am now considerably older than twenty-four. In addition to subjecting me to this animated-dead state, she cursed my eyes, so that I could not change them when I shape-shifted in the hope that people would recognise me; she also made some kind of change to the space-time continuum so that only one of me can exist throughout all of time. There is no future Seth, and no past Seth. I am the same one you saw two weeks ago in Azarath, Robin… She then banished me from Azarath for five hundred years, sending me to Earth; I was cursed then too, physically unable to transcend the Earthly plane, and certainly unable to enter Azarath. I wandered Earth aimlessly for decade after decade, seeing time change around me, watching babies grow old and die. Being dead, I no longer have to eat or drink or anything, so it wasn't like I had to scratch out a living. I watched the Black Death claim thousands, I watched the Great Fire of London burn almost an entire city to the ground. You'd think I'd have enjoyed it, but no; I was in the very depths of despair. I used to wish that she had killed me that day, instead of forcing me to withstand what seemed like an eternity of _nothing_… But that was her plan, wasn't it? She _wanted_ me to suffer; that's why she did it. She wanted me to _learn_ – and a _dead_ man can learn nothing."

Despite the bitter edge to his voice, Seth was smiling.

"I stayed in England for a while, then moved on, travelled to Europe, then Asia, explored the wonders of the Orient. I changed my name also, as nobody could seem to pronounce Sen'th'azar; instead I chose "Seth", the name of the Egyptian god of the desert and of storms, partly because it sounds similar to my original name, and partly because Seth was the one who hacked that goody-goody Osiris to pieces and scattered the parts. On my travels I began to accumulate an ever-growing depository of Earth-brewed magic, as well as things that are all too natural. Healing from the Shaolin monks, for instance, and the celtic sorcery of dying-out druids…"

"_Shaolin monks?!_" Robin wailed, envious despite himself.

Seth shot him a wicked Nicholson eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten your passion for martial arts," he said airily. "Yes, I daresay you would have learned much from the monks, Robin, as would have you, Slade." He nodded curtly at the pair of them, then smirked. "But it's not as though either of you will ever live long enough to meet one. Now, where was I? Oh, yes; during my travels, I came _here_, to the newly-discovered, at the time, United States of America. Still pretty much uncivilised, I suppose it was a bit boring, although the land – cultivated by the Indians – was breath-taking. But man destroyed it the way he does everything, and I tired of being near "civilisation". Instead I began to wander, until I came to a most amazing place, buried deep underground; a place built by Azarathians, deep within the core of the Earth." His emerald eyes glittered knowingly as he saw that they were both giving him their undivided attention. "It is called "The Church of Prophecy", and it is situated… exactly where the old library of your city is."

"Jump City's old public library?" Robin repeated, surprised. "But that place is falling apart!"

"The Church of Prophecy has been there much longer than your city has," Seth replied. "It was built by Azarathian hands hundreds of years before, even _then_, and it is where any prophecy or revelation of Azarath is locked away; they believe it is safer for things such as these to be away from the dimension itself. Many prophecies have been buried there, most of which have never been fulfilled. The most recent one to be placed there, I believe, is one that was made almost seventeen years ago, about your friend Raven, telling of her destiny." The all-knowing grin crossed his face again. "But _that_ would be telling."

Again Robin opened his mouth, and again Seth headed him off;

"All those years ago, however, there was no trace of any prophecy about _Raven_. Instead, after much searching, I found what I was looking for – the prophecy connected to the Orb of Azarath. The one connected to my _powers_." He sighed nostalgically. "I was delighted, of course, and revised it thoroughly, already planning… I lived out the remainder of my five hundred years' banishment in the fast-advancing USA, and then, on the very _day_ that my banishment was up, I went back to Azarath." He sighed again, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Five hundred years changes a lot, let me tell you. Azarath had changed – for good, I suppose – and there was a new Senate. And best of all, after five hundred years, nobody recognised me. How _could_ they, I mean… everybody who _had_ known me was long dead. All but Arella, that is, but she too was long gone from Azarath. I was welcomed into the new Azarathian community and applied to be a monk. After becoming one of Azar's servants, I was free to use the Senate House Library once again, not to mention the Church of Azar's amazing stacks too. Back where I truly belonged – among dark magic – I turned my attention to my prophecy, trying to figure out how to make sure it was fulfilled. The "prophecy" which I spun the pair of you was loosely based on the _real_ prophecy."

"And that would be _how?_" Slade probed, his voice smooth and dangerous.

"Well…" Seth beamed as he reached inside his robe with his cigarette-less hand and pulled out a small pendant on a silver chain. The pendant itself was an oval of smooth black stone, glittering, with red and purple dashed through it – the same stone that the Orb of Azarath was made from, it appeared.

"That's not a _prophecy_," Slade spat, as though he thought Seth was thick.

Seth raised his eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I _forgot_," he responded maliciously. "You're something of an _expert_ on prophecies, aren't you, Slade? You know, after attempting to fulfil a _made-up_ one for fifteen whole years, I'd imagine you'd know all about them, hmm?"

For a fleeting instant Robin really thought that Slade was going to punch Seth; in fact, he had been _hoping_ he would. As much as he hated Slade, right _now_, he hated Seth _more_.

And whether they liked it or not, he and Slade were in this together.

"Of _course_ it's a prophecy," Seth went on, smirking. "What, you think people actually write prophecies on pieces of paper? That one I gave you… I made it by pouring coffee on it, crumpling it up, then writing on it in Azarathian with watered-down ink. Azar, you're so _stupid_… Even _now_ I still can't believe you _fell_ for it…"

Silence.

Robin swallowed, disliking this situation more and more by the second. Somehow, with every word he spoke, Seth's "plan", _whatever_ it was, seemed to become more and more sinister.

And anyone who could shoot _Slade_ down this easily was somebody to be afraid of.

Seth held the pendant up to the light of the candles around the power circle; it glittered in a way that made Robin feel strangely cold. The feeling worsened when Seth began to speak softly and quickly in fluent Azarathian. The pendant seemed to pulse in response; then it exploded with blue light and all of the candles in the tiny room went out at once, and both Robin and Slade instinctively shielded their faces. When nothing happened, both of them looked back at Seth.

In the dark room now, the only light was the bright blue writing that had appeared in mid-air, glowing like a brand new neon sign. There were lines and lines of it, and it was all in a language that neither Robin nor Slade could read;

Azarathian.

It stayed like that for a few seconds; then it dissolved into nothing and all of the candles sprang back to life. Seth flipped the "prophecy" into the air, caught it deftly and pocketed it again.

"One prophecy, gentlemen," he said, bowing mockingly.

"That means nothing," Slade spat. "_We_ couldn't read it."

Seth drew on his cigarette thoughtfully.

"True. Never mind; I'm about to tell you of its content anyway." His brilliant eyes glinted wickedly. "This is, after all, where _you two_ come in."

Again – despite each being the other's arch-nemesis – Robin and Slade exchanged glances.

"Okay, so I'm not the most imaginative of people," Seth said sweepingly. "Most of the "prophecy" that I made up was inspired in some way or another. By the one which you just saw; the one forged by Arella all those centuries ago. The real one requires many things to be done, including the need of a key and a Summoning Ritual, but also several instances must be broken. In basic format, it told of two mortal souls that would be… well, not _soul-mates_, but similar. _Joined_, if you will, by the _Powers That Be_, or whatever you want to call it. Almost… _shared_; but one "half" would fight for good, while the other "half" would be on the side of darkness. If brought together, these souls – or _single_ soul, if it is to be interpreted that way – would form the basis of power for the Summoning."

Seth smiled sunnily at them.

"No prizes for guessing who _those two_ could be, then…"

Both Robin and Slade were outraged.

"I'm _nothing_ like him!" Robin yelled furiously.

"How _dare_ you try to control _my_ actions!" Slade seethed at the same time.

Seth grinned and blew out a cloud of smoke.

"Settle down, ladies," he said mockingly. "There's more. _Far_ more… It wasn't easy to find both of you, you know, but as a monk of Azar I learned how to do a little technique called "Soul-Searching". Having already established exactly what the match of souls was by deciphering the prophecy, I merely needed to find you both. At that time, neither of you had been born; as it turned out, I had a very, _very_ long wait. But finally, some three hundred-and-something years later, I found a tiny glimmer, one half of what I was looking for…" He turned his attention to Slade, smirking. "The day _you_ were born was joyous one, at least for _me_. Half of my long wait was over; now my priority – aside from searching for the other half of the soul-match – was looking after you. I became, in effect, your guardian angel, spending most of my time on Earth. I looked after you, watched over you, making sure you came to no harm while I waited for the other half. I had another long wait – though not _nearly_ as long as I had waited for you, Slade – but finally, a little before your seventeenth birthday, on a hot July night, I caught the other glimmer."

Smirking deeply now, Seth turned to Robin.

"It would seem, _Richard_, that your parents got a bit _excited_ by the 4th July fireworks…" Seth clasped his hands together mockingly, his cigarette poking out between his slim fingers. "Now, isn't that patriotic? Conceived on Independence Day? You must be so _proud_…"

Robin had absolutely no answer for him.

"Well, there you were, barely nothing within your mother's womb, but you were _there_," Seth pressed. "However, now that Slade was almost seventeen and training in martial arts – and had stopped attempting to eat things like ant poison – my need to look after him had ceased somewhat."

In spite of himself, Robin turned to Slade quizzically.

"You ate _ant poison?_" He repeated incredulously.

"I was four years old," Slade replied icily.

"And you should have _died_," Seth cut in mercilessly. "But, by some "miracle", you didn't. But I'll tell you now, Slade, it wasn't the _doctors_ at the hospital that saved you; it was _me_." Turning to Robin, Seth nodded in Slade's direction. "He used to be blonde, by the way," he informed the Boy Wonder with a wink.

Again Robin didn't answer him.

Seth sighed.

"Well, now that I didn't have Slade to check up on so much – and with _your_ mother being an aerialist – I devoted most of my time to _you_," he went on. "You were a tricky one; you gave your poor mother a difficult pregnancy, although I used to help her with the pain…"

At once Robin's full attention was on Seth.

"She knew you?" He asked sharply.

Seth snorted.

"Yeah, _right_; another thing I learned as a monk of Azar was the gift of projecting a "Soul-Self"; that is, encompassing yourself within your own soul and becoming spirit. Raven can do it too, you know; that black bird thing of hers she appears out of is her Soul-Self. Of course, it was a lot more difficult for me, only possessing a quarter of my soul, but I mastered it in the end. How _else_ do you think I followed _Slade_ around for seventeen years?"

Okay, so it had been a dumb question, but the answer had angered Robin even more.

"You used to… to… _touch_ my mother, and she didn't even know you were _there?!_" He snapped.

"It didn't work quite like that, Robin," Seth explained. "What I used to do… was put her into a sort of trance…"

**TT**

…_It was a particularly warm day for February, and Mary Grayson was making the most of it, sitting in the chair in the sun that her husband had brought out from the trailer for her. Her book lay open on the grass beside her, but she had grown tired of it, and now simply leaned back, enjoying the sun that was so rare in February. Her long black hair shone as it tumbled around her shoulders, and she wore a simple green maternity dress. _

_Even so, it was tight over her bump; she was very pregnant._

_In less than a month she would be a mother._

_She was excited by that prospect, even though her pregnancy had not exactly been planned. She was restless also, but that was probably boredom. Since finding out that she was pregnant all those months ago, neither her husband John nor Pop Haley would let her take part in the acts. She was officially, as they said, "On Maternity Leave". _

_While she was enjoying not having to get up at 5:00am to practise gruelling routines on the high wire as John did, she was getting bored. With the circus always on the move, there was nowhere she could really go, no clubs she could join to pass the time._

_Never mind; next month they would be in Gotham City. She had always wanted to go to Gotham; she had an interest in architecture._

_She picked up the other book she had brought out with her; Baby's Names. It was very pawed-through; she looked through it every single day. She didn't know what sex the baby was, but had already picked out a boy's name;_

_Richard._

_It was circled in three different colours. She still couldn't decide on a girl's name; if it was a boy, it would make things a whole lot easier. Besides, she liked "Dick" as a shortening, as in "Dick Tracy"._

_Maybe it was the heat – although it wasn't really **that** hot – or simply because she was tired, but Mary was really beginning to feel very drowsy. Her surroundings were beginning to become hazy, and she was barely aware that the book of names had slid from her grasp. She laid her head back on the chair, barely awake…_

_A cigarette in his mouth, Seth Elliott materialised from shadows that were barely there, a faint smile playing on his handsome face. His long black robe flowing behind him, he crossed to the pregnant woman – radiant, beautiful, carrying safely in her womb the one thing he needed the most – and ran his long thin fingers down the side of her face._

"_How are you today, Mary?" He asked her softly, although she could barely hear him. "Little bastard kicking you again?"_

_Nothing._

_Seth crouched down next to her bump, placing a hand on it. No movement as such – the baby was asleep within the warm safeness of his mother. Yes, Seth knew it was a boy, although, in all truth, he knew little of else of the yet-unborn child._

_Only that he needed him._

_Even so, when he concentrated, he could feel and hear the baby's tiny heartbeat, as quick and light as a butterfly's wings._

"_I feel sorry for you," Seth whispered, his mouth centimetres from Mary's swollen abdomen. "She's going to call you "Dick"…"_

_He rose and walked away without another word, and behind him the sense of frozen animation he had placed the world around him in seemed to melt away._

_Mary's eyes fluttered open and she sat up, thinking that she had dozed off for a few minutes._

"_Mary!"_

_She looked up to see her husband half-running towards her, still in his "Flying Graysons" leotard, a towel around his neck and his sports bag slung over one powerful shoulder._

_She attempted to get out of the chair but he reached before she managed it and he pushed her back into it. They shared a quick kiss before he pulled back, grinning._

"_How are you?"_

"_Oh, you know," Mary replied, shrugging. "How was practice?"_

"_A disaster," John Grayson replied cheerfully. His grey eyes fell on the book of baby names and he groaned._

"_Are you looking at that **again**?" _

_Mary smiled._

"_So?"_

_Grey eyes met deep blue ones; John Grayson's handsome face broke into a smile. He kissed her again, his hands on her bump._

"_You know, I hope for the baby's sake that it's not a boy," he mused on pulling back._

_Mary frowned._

"_Why?"_

_John grinned._

"_Because you want to name it "Dick"…"_

**TT**

Oh yeah… Seth has been lying to them about so much – and _I've_ been lying to _you_. Me and my OC are in _league_, baby! Be afraid…

Uh, some things to mention:

First, there is new art up over on DeviantART! There's one of Robin in his new outfit (minus his jacket), one of Seth and four of his disguises, and a chibi one of Terra, Roy and Robin. Check those out via the link to _AvengeroftheAbyss_ (mine and Narroch's joint DA account) on my profile.

Second, kudos to everyone who figured out that Seth was the Seer (et al). There were a lot of you; although I feel that I should especially mention Quinn and His Quill, who has been putting it in every review since Seth first showed up in _Black Magic_. Well done, Quinny-Boy. Here is a cookie. :)

Third, I really have to apologise for all the major talkiness in this chapter. It's pretty much just Seth spouting a bunch of OC garbage, and for that I am sorry. He's pretty much doing the villain cliché of capturing the hero and then telling him exactly what he is planning and how he did it. I'm sorry. I really am. I know it's lame, but I couldn't find another way around it all, otherwise I wouldn't be answering all your questions. But yeah, it's a bit of a _Totally Spies_ moment…

Fourth, Slade's age. I put him at 17 years older than Robin. I don't know how old he is in the cartoon. I don't know whether they intended to follow the older version from the _New Teen Titans_ comics, or whether they updated him behind that mask and made him younger. But, well, when I wrote this, two years ago, 17 years older seemed good enough to me. That makes him, in ratio to Robin in the present day, 33. In this future world, it makes him 48 (because Nightwing should be 31 – only he's dead, and his 15 year younger self is here instead…).

Fifth – Robin conceived on Independence Day. I don't know when he was conceived. I don't think it was ever even thought of by DC Comics. However, I'm still going by the assumption that he was born in March, and if you count back nine months from March, you get to July. So… 4th July. Why not:D

So, yeah…

You wanna yell at me for everything I have been screwing you around about, you know what to do…

RobinRocks xXx


	21. Child of Shadows

Well, it's been a crazy week. I _finally_ passed my driving theory test (take _that_, DVLA!); my laptop died, was repaired, then promptly died again, and is now on the verge of being dropped out of the window since I can't write anything on it; I've entered the _Teen Titans Author Idol_ competition on TitansGonet (like _Pop Idol/American Idol_, but with _TT_ fanfics! Squee! A competition _made_ for me! I'll let you know how I get on. Is anyone else competing?); I finally got to see an episode of _American Dad!_ and by ironic coincidence, it had not one, not two, but **three** _Teen Titans_ voice actors in it (Scott Menville, Kevin Michael Richardson and Dee Bradley Baker); and I also learned that a second _Teen Titans_ movie is a now a more distinct possibility than it was before _Trouble in Tokyo_ was released to DVD. Yay! Apparently there is a script, although I don't think there are actually any definite production details.

But there _is_ hope!

Speaking of, you must all be losing hope in me concerning _this_. I just keep dropping bombshell after bombshell on your heads. Leading you all along, all this time… "Hey, guess what, kids! You know all that stuff? I was just _joking_!"…

So, um, this is the last nasty plot-twist chapter for a while. But there IS a plot-twist here (yes, _another_ one)!

Without further ado, thankyou to: **KGDiva **(um, I don't know, what _are_ you going to do with me? perhaps I had better stop with the scary surprises…); **Quinn and His Quill** (I hope you enjoyed your cookie, Quinn! You deserved it! P.S: It was poisoned…); **Dark Austral **(ah, hello again! I am glad you liked it! Thankyou!); **The GmR** (you know, it's funny you should mention that you like Seth… and thankyou for the review, anyways!); **Guardian of Azarath** (ah, yes, Quinn has been mouthing off about all my so-called hidden plot twists since Day One. Thankfully everybody ignored him. As for Slade… I have NO IDEA about the cartoon version at all); _Narroch_ (go hide in your hurricane bunker, then!); **Amara-Chan **(the baby? Dealt with right here! No, it hasn't already been resolved…); **Jennie **(you know what? You're exactly spot on. Seth _isn't_ a genius mastermind. He just _thinks_ he is. But I'm not going to tell you if he wins ultimately or not…); **LoopyLousise123 **(oh, believe me, there's _more_…); **Coolteenzz **(am I going to end the story in 2-3 chapters? Hell, _no_! We've barely hit the halfway mark! And, uh, yeah, I guess you can make the MV whenever you want!); **Me **(Seth is villainy, huh? I think he'd appreciate that, being the up-himself asshole that he is…);** Kami-Elf** (oh yes, so warm and fuzzy! Don't feel bad for not working it all out – no-one did, and I didn't leave very many clues…);** Someone **(Raven, huh? Yes, people have been lamenting over her for a while now…); **Simmie **(25th July? Your birthday? Heh heh. And another one who would like Raven back, I presume?); **Luneko **(a dog who can read? Like Brian from _Family Guy_! I love Brian. And _Family Guy_. And, uh, stop exploding your head!).

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand the drumroll…

Child of Shadows

Perhaps it had been a vision Seth had managed to implant in his head, but Robin visually _see_ the scene that Seth Elliott described; the dappled sunlight, the cool February air, his own _mother_, still pregnant with him.

Almost as though he could _touch_ her. Which was bizarre; and not least because she was dead. But because he wasn't exactly _present_ in this scene, as such. He was barely nine months conceived, as such, not a member of the outside world yet.

He didn't want to know how Seth had done it. Any of it. The image in his head.

His… mother…

"Don't look at me like that," Seth snapped, noting the murderous glare Robin was shooting in his direction. "I used to do it to _help_ her; you wouldn't believe the _grief_ you used to give her. You used to keep her up all night by kicking her."

Robin was shaking, disgusted and furious.

"I can't believe you used to… _you used to_…"

"Yeah, yeah," Seth said dismissively, cutting him off. His eyes seemed to glitter again, accentuated by the flickering light of the candles. "Well, you know the drill; your mother went into labour, you came into the world looking like some kind of gross slimy alien… The joy of birth, right? But let's backtrack for a second; we're getting ahead of ourselves. The November before – your mother had been pregnant with you for four months at this point – something very interesting happened in Azarath, something which I decided to incorporate into my prophecy, to make it so that I won all round."

"And _that_ would be?" Robin asked stiffly.

Seth smiled and threw his second burnt-out cigarette to the floor.

"The birth of your friend Raven, of course," he said. "The birth of Trigon's daughter…" He sighed again. "It would seem that Miss Angela Roth of Gotham City got herself involved in some nasty cult and ended up pregnant with Trigon's spawn. Those annoying, all-loving Azarathians took her in, renamed her "Arella", of _all_ things, and brought her daughter into the world. Despite making up all kinds of nasty prophecies and allsorts about her, they treated Raven, as they named her, with love and care, although she _did_ grow up in solitude, much the way _I_ did. But… As soon as I saw her, already knowing that _you_ were on the way, I knew that I had to get more actively involved in _my_ prophecy. You see, I had been reading it thoroughly, and it had stated that _you_ – the second soul – had to have passed your sixteenth birthday before the Summoning could even be attempted. That gave me another almost-seventeen years of doing nothing, so I began to come up with another plan, tying it into the rules of the prophecy…"

Seth's green eyes misted over for a few seconds; then he looked directly at Robin again, but this time there was no trace of a smile on his face.

"How is she?" He asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

Robin blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." For the first time, Seth seemed impatient. "Raven? How is she?"

_Duh_…

"I'd forgotten that you knew," Robin replied frostily.

Seth smiled thinly.

"How could I _not?_"

Robin frowned at that.

"I… what do you mean by _that?_"

Seth laughed suddenly, the sound taking Robin by surprise.

"Bloody hell, you're _slow_, aren't you?!" He folded his arms, his gaze fixed solely on Robin again. "That "baby"… Look how fast it's growing, what it's doing to her… Goddamn you, boy, are you fucking _retarded?_"

Genuinely confused now, Robin scratched his hair

"I… well, we thought that maybe… because I was possessed when it happened, we—"

"_Jeez_…" Seth's expression was incredulous and he was shaking his head. "For sixteen and a half years I've thought you were _intelligent_."

"But I—"

"_Surely_ you've figured out by now, _Sherlock_," Seth interrupted nastily, "that the baby within Raven's womb… is _not_ yours?..."

Robin started at him, not sure that he had heard that right.

"I… but… Of _course_ it's mine!" He burst out. "Me and Raven… we… we… _you know!_" He demonstrated crudely with his leather-gloved fingers, the effect obscene in a humorous way.

"Yes, you did," Seth agreed airily. "Funny, isn't it? You were taken over by a strange intoxicating desire that you couldn't _control_…"

"_You?_" Robin's voice was barely audible.

"Let's hear it for the boy," Seth replied dryly. "Of _course_ it was me, you stupid mortal! _You're_ the one that… got it in, knocked her up, whatever you want to call it… But you didn't impregnate her with your _own_ child; you impregnated her with _mine_."

"That's not possible," Slade interjected before Robin could reply.

"After fifteen years, Slade – even though it was a lie – haven't you realised that science is inferior to magic?" Seth stated rather than asked, sounding bored. He turned back to Robin. "Okay, let me try and make this as simple as possible, because you're obviously not as smart as I thought you were," he said patronisingly. "That arrow the Slade of your own time shot into you a few weeks ago. _I_ gave it to him – it's the thing that put the demon into you."

"Yes, I worked that part out for myself," Robin replied snippily.

"Good; at least you're keeping up. Now, it wasn't just _any_ demon; it was a special demon, a vessel, if you will, carrying my spawn. It was specifically created by me for the sole purpose of impregnating Raven with my child."

"Why couldn't you just do it yourself?" Robin asked, his masked eyes narrowed. "I thought you could control will."

"A curious thing, it is," Seth mused. "Raven does not trust me as far as she can throw me, and I cannot control her; her mind is very powerful because her power is drawn from it. It would not be wise to go fooling around with it, do you not agree?"

"I guess not," Robin agreed with a shrug.

"So, I started to work on a little love-affair between you two," Seth went on brightly. "I couldn't control _her_, true, but I could control _you_. And I used to sneak potions and things into her herbal tea to upset her hormones. That first night you and she… well, _you know_… Well, you wouldn't _believe_ the amount of junk I put into her tea. Specifically designed, of course, to make her desire you, so that she would grow to trust you in that intimate way. So, when I decided that the time was right, I had that arrow shot into you, with the special demon couplet – carrying my half of the bargain, and also harbouring a lustful desire – so that you would "pass on" the message. _Ah_, indulgence demons… you really _can_ do no wrong with them. I knew it would work; you were getting an erection just _looking_ at her…"

Robin flushed pink again, pissed off.

"How could you—"

"Oh, there's more," Seth interrupted happily. "That in turn leads to why _he_-" – he nodded in Slade's direction – "-had to rape you."

Robin tensed. Behind him, so did Slade.

"I led him to believe that it was because your soul had to be sexually tainted, but that wasn't it at all," Seth burbled, sounding very happy. "Nope; it was because bad things – stains on the soul – make it easier for demons to corrupt those whose body they are inhabiting. So although you had already lost your virginity, it wasn't _enough_. So I set it up for him to cruelly rape you, and lo and behold; look how easily you were possessed. Your entire body began to change, even with the presence of your soul, because you have been so deeply sinned against. If the instance had merely been that you couldn't be a virgin, I would not have bothered, or if I _had_, I would have _forced_ you both by controlling your wills. I did it prior to the rape, made you kiss and touch and things; I could have made you both _desire_ homosexual practice if I had wanted. But _no_; that wasn't what I wanted _at all_…"

There was a terrible silence.

Not waiting for either of them to reply, Seth went on;

"In truth, I don't know _how_ you didn't notice," he said. "You know, about the demon." He gazed fixedly at Robin. "Remember that very nice part, when Raven gave you a lovely gift, one that you aren't really worthy of? That lovely… full-on… _blow-job?_ Remember _that_, Robin?"

Seth's jaunty tone frightened him and he stepped back, nodding nervously. Yes, he most certainly did; perhaps it was bad and perverted of him, but it was one of his fondest memories.

But Seth's horrible smirk frightened him.

"But… remember what _happened?_" Seth went on brightly. "Or rather, what _didn't_ happen? It was long and lovely, no doubt about that, but… you didn't _come_, did you? Strange, is it not?"

Robin nodded slightly, remembering; yes, Seth was right. He _hadn't_ come; in fact, even during that wonderful – demon- and-drugged-tea-fuelled – copulation, it had taken him a very long time. He had thought it a little strange, but had dismissed it, especially considering that he seemed to have gotten Raven pregnant anyway.

"Do you know _why_ it took you so long, Robin?" Seth crooned. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Robin found himself nervously nodding his head even though he didn't really want to know at all.

"Because my sperm – within the demon – had to _kill_ all of _yours_ first. Wouldn't have wanted her to get pregnant with _your_ child, now would we?"

Robin shook his head mutely.

"But… I don't understand…" he whispered. "If you can shape-shift, couldn't you have… just taken my form and done it yourself?"

"Nope," Seth replied cheerfully. "For one thing, if I hadn't had the demon shot into you, would you have come to Azarath in the first place? _No_. And secondly…"

He trailed off as his form melted, merging into another shape.

Robin's shape.

Within seconds, a duplicate of Robin stood in Seth's place. Although his outfit was different to the one the real Robin was wearing – Seth-Robin was wearing Robin's regular red, green and yellow uniform instead of black leather – Seth's new form was utterly flawless. The other "boy" stood with his hands on his slim hips, a smirk on his face. His hair was styled perfectly – every hair matched the position of Robin's own – and his stature was utterly perfect; exactly the right weight and height. Although his expression wasn't a particularly pleasant one – a nasty, arrogant little smirk – Robin knew he was capable of such an expression himself, so couldn't fault it.

The only thing missing was the crimson staining of blood on the fake-Robin's chin.

"The only problem that I usually have is the eyes," Seth-Robin explained; his voice too mirrored Robin's exactly. "Yours are blue. But because you wear a mask it wouldn't have been a problem for once. However… We're talking about _Raven_ here. She can sense auras. She'd have known a mile off that it wasn't the real you. This could fool _anyone_ else, even your little alien girlfriend. But not Raven."

The nasty smirk deepened, to the point that Robin was quite dismayed to realise that he was capable of looking so evil.

"And _yes_," Seth-Robin added spitefully; "You _are_ really this ugly…"

He drew a cigarette out of thin air and lit it up with a flick of his fingers; all the while still in Robin's form. And the _real_ Robin stared at him; because he was speechless, and because it looked so… _weird_…

To see himself. To see himself _smoking_.

"Smoking's bad for your health," Robin said numbly, simply because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Seth-Robin snorted, finally melting back into his own form.

"Not when you're already dead," he replied snippily. "When the only thing that keeps you "alive" is the ability to shape-shift and a quarter of your soul, things like smoking can't harm you. A quirk, I suppose."

Robin didn't know how he should feel; on one hand, a weight had lifted – well, slightly – at the revelation that it wasn't _his_ baby; knowing that his demonic possession wasn't the cause of it. On the other hand…

…The fact that it was _Seth's_ baby was considerably worse.

And then he remembered…

"Raven's _dead!_" He said sharply. He looked briefly at Slade, almost for reassurance. "She was electrocuted, and then Terra collapsed a whole warehouse on top of her! She's _dead_…"

Seth laughed.

"You think I would be so careless as to allow Raven to die alongside you and your pathetic friends?" He asked, the question rhetorical. "I put a protection charm upon her; the electricity merely knocked her out. She and the baby, you'll be pleased to know, are both fine."

"Then where _is_ she?!" Robin asked desperately. "I _saw_ her! She was _dead!_"

"I used magic to mask her pulse," Seth answered airily. "You noticed that the baby kicked, even though it should not have been alive if she was dead. I couldn't stop the baby from moving. The corpses of your other friends were, I'm afraid, all too real; but Raven was never dead. Never dead at all. I used necromancy to restore _you_ to life, but I am afraid your other friends were of no use to me, so they were crushed by the traitor Terra."

"_You_ brought me back?" Robin wasn't surprised at that, but puzzled. "But if you _need_ me, as you so obviously do, then why didn't you protect _me_ too? Why… why did you let me _die?_..."

"I had things to attend to, adding a few finishing touches to my plan," Seth replied lazily. "If I'd left you alive I'd have had to keep an eye on you; _dead_, and I didn't have to bother about you until I was ready." He paused, then nonchalantly added; "Plus I just wanted to watch you fry."

Robin raised an eyebrow.

"Take it you don't like me much, then…" he muttered darkly.

Again Seth laughed.

"_Like _you?" He drew on his cigarette. "I _despise_ you, boy; I hate the pair of you. Worthless mortals… you make me _sick_. But I need you, at least for now… I do, however, greatly anticipate bringing about your highly-deserved demises."

"And it's not my baby?"

Seth's already-pale face whitened considerably.

"As if _you_ would _ever_ be worthy of cultivating your offspring within Trigon's daughter, circus boy," he spat. "You're nothing but mortal filth, utterly worthless but for your soul. You will _never_ be good enough for _Raven_, and don't ever believe that you _will_. I have granted you privilege above all others, allowing you to become intimate with her, and I daresay that in your blinding mortal arrogance you merely took her for granted. Indeed, I daresay that once she informed you that she was pregnant – believing as she did that it was _yours_ – your desire for her lessened considerably. A wild guess, perhaps, but you aren't nearly so keen for her to spread her legs now, are you?"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Robin snapped.

Seth seemed surprised at that.

"Me?" He laughed slightly. "Dear boy, I prize Raven higher than anything else, even yours and Slade's souls. As Trigon's daughter, she is worth ten of even _me_. Why do you think I was so desperate for her to bear my child? Imagine the power that our child will forbear due to its heritage; the grandchild of Trigon, the offspring of Raven and I. Quantity will be unable to measure the power it will be born with, and when I have re-acquired my powers and taken over Azarath once again, we shall raise it among the books and equipment that have taught both her and I so much."

"Re-acquired your powers?" Slade repeated.

"Taken over Azarath?" Robin followed suite.

Seth beamed.

"Of course. Tonight my prophecy shall be fulfilled, and once again Azarath shall be within my grasp. First, however, I shall seek out Arella and destroy her; then I shall turn on Marcus and his precious Senate. I have already killed that wretched Jonathon, of course, and I must admit that I enjoyed it immensely, and also admittedly I am looking forward to dispatching Marcus. Annoying, rule-abiding goody-goody…"

"And what of the girl?" Slade interjected. "And _us?_"

"Oh, well…" Seth shrugged, his cigarette between his lips again. "That's simple. _You_, Slade, I shall kill when I am done with you. _Raven_, of course, will become my queen when I take over Azarath. And _Robin_…" He turned his malicious gaze on the Boy Wonder. "I have something special planned for _you_…"

"Yeah?" Robin replied frostily.

Seth nodded, smiling brightly.

"Naturally. But we must wait a little while longer; the time is not yet upon us, and we still have much to discuss."

"I want to see Raven," Robin demanded. "I want to see if she's really ok."

"_Patience_, circus boy," Seth chided him. "You _will_ see her; that much I will bequeath to you."

"The perhaps you will explain to us the clash of time zones," Slade cut in acidly. "Why you have brought the boy _here_, to a time where he does not belong."

"I have engineered this perfectly," Seth replied. "It has taken much _time_ to become perfect, and there have been flaws that I have struggled to fix. I knew that this could not possibly be done across one time fracture, because there was _too much_ to be done. Instead, I have flitted back and forth between this time and a time fifteen years previous to this one, the present of Robin's. There are things that have happened in Robin's time that did not happen here; for instance, Raven's impregnation. The Raven of _this_ time merely died alongside the other three Teen Titans, while the Robin of this time was delayed from reaching the warehouse, thus being saved. Meanwhile, in a time fifteen years previous – one running parallel to this – the Raven I had set my sights on had just turned one year old. Similarly, the "Avenger" I chose was the Robin of the past, for the simple reason that the prophecy states that the Second Soul must not be of an adult age, as in younger than twenty-one, but older than sixteen. It is very specific, and therefore _you_ fit the bill perfectly. Of course, that ruled the Robin, or "Nightwing", of _this_ time out, for now he would be _thirty_-one. However, the time for the fulfilment draws ever nearer in _this_ time, so I arranged for Robin to be brought here to play his part. Meanwhile, I believe the "Robin" of this time met his maker three years ago?"

Slade nodded curtly in confirmation.

"_However_," Seth went on, breezily, "I needed to begin the cycle again in the past, so around a month and half ago I appeared to the fifteen-year-younger Slade of Robin's time in the museum, the way I did to _you_ all those years ago. He took to it in the same fashion that _you_ did, raping the Robin who now stands here on my command. _That_, however, is where the similarity between the two "prophecies" ends; in Robin's time I began to add to it, preparing for the impregnation of Raven. I instructed the Slade of Robin's time to shoot the arrow into him, inflicting him with the demon possession, something which did not happen in _this_ time. The consequential visit to Azarath and everything else that went with it… all of it is a new feature, if you will, to history."

"So time-travel is one of your powers?" Slade queried lazily.

"Nope." Seth fished the gold watch out of his pocket, showing it to them. "_This_ little beauty is the sister-piece to the Clock of Eternity; the Watch of Infinity. I stole-- _acquired_ it many years ago, for this very purpose."

"And the clock itself?" Robin pressed. "If you're the "Master of Time", then you admitted to being responsible for bringing me here. How did you do it? What did you do to the Clock of Eternity?"

"Oh, _that_." Seth gestured profusely with his cigarette, a trail of grey wispy smoke following the movement of his hand. "I "fixed" that clock months ago, during your battle with Warp. I removed a gear from it and played around with it so that it would be activated at precisely the right time, and at _your_ touch."

His eyes glinted.

"And, in fact, the gear was very briefly in your possession," he went on cheerfully.

Robin blinked.

"It was? When?"

"In Azarath. Raven gave it to you; I slipped it under her pillow one night, knowing that she would eventually pass it on. And then, if you remember, you traded it."

Robin's masked eyes widened.

"_To you_," he breathed.

Seth went into one of his pockets and extracted the tiny glinting silver gear on its leather cord.

"Had to stop you from getting home, didn't I?"

He slipped it back into his pocket as Robin watched, aghast. If only he'd _realised_, he wouldn't have swapped it for this stupid, useless necklace…

"I'll be wanting the key back now, while we're at it," Seth said suddenly.

Again Robin blinked in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"The key," Seth repeated impatiently, holding out his free hand to receive it. "You've done a good job looking after it, but I'll be needing it back."

"Key?" Robin asked, confused.

"Look, we've _already_ established that you're thick, boy," Seth snapped. "The key to the Orb of Azarath. Now do yourself a little justice and hand the damn thing over before I tear it from you."

"The key to…?" Robin frowned, stepping back from him. "But I don't _have_ it!"

Seth smiled twistedly.

"Yes you do," he said calmly. "It's hanging around your neck."

Robin slowly looked down at the Blood Diamond, kicking himself mentally.

_Duh_…

Okay, so maybe it _wasn't_ quite so stupid and useless…

And it was essential that he didn't give it back to Seth.

"Why did _you_ have the key to the orb?" He questioned, stalling. "Obviously Arella never intended for it to fall into your possession."

Seth shrugged.

"An interesting question. I suppose I-- _Slade, you moron!_"

Seth lunged forwards, his black hair whipping behind him, as Slade suddenly grappled Robin from behind, bringing them both to the floor. Robin tried to wrestle him off, but Slade was stronger and heavier and it was near impossible.

"_Give me the damn key, boy!_" Slade hissed, his gloved hand enclosing around the red diamond at Robin's neck. "Do you realise… how _long_ I've searched… for it?!"

"It's not… _real!_" Robin gasped in reply, attempting to pull it back from Slade's grip. "You won't get the power he promised you! It's all a _lie!_"

Then, just as suddenly, Slade's weight was torn from Robin with such force that the thin chain snapped; the diamond on its broken chain went skittering across the candle-lit floor, eventually coming to a halt near the Orb of Azarath itself, right in the middle of the powder circle.

Seth swore and started for it; seeing him, Robin swept one of his legs out, taking Seth's feet from beneath him. The ex-Head Senator collapsed heavily, his startled cry being cut short as his chin met the concrete floor with a sickening crack.

Ignoring him – although he knew how it felt, as his own chin was stained crimson from a similar experience – Robin leapt over him, darting towards the circle.

_Get the orb, smash it…_

He grabbed the Blood Diamond – the key – first, whipping around to get the orb too.

He came face to face with Seth.

Seth grabbed him by the throat, and the man was far stronger than he looked.

"Give me the fucking key, you mortal scum," he said calmly.

Robin relinquished his grip on the key, and it fell to the floor again, unsettling the powder somewhat. Satisfied, Seth whispered something that Robin couldn't hear, then threw him backwards. The boy landed in a tangled heap and struggled to right himself. He painfully got to his feet, noticing suddenly that…

…_His legs were cold_…

Looking down, he barely stifled his shriek. His whole black leather outfit had gone; in its place was his uniform.

But not his current one.

And at sixteen, shorty-pants didn't look quite so cute.

Yes, the entire outfit. Red button-down tunic; yellow cape with a polo-shirt collar; short pants; pixie boots.

On a sixteen year old boy.

He looked up at Seth, utterly aghast; the man, his mouth streaming blood in the same way that Robin's was, simply smirked.

He winked at him.

"Cute legs, Robin," he murmured spitefully.

"Change it _back!_" Robin spat furiously, his cheeks hot and flushed with embarrassment.

Seth raised his eyebrows.

"Don't give me orders," he replied icily, "or you'll be wearing _nothing_ at all." He relit his cigarette from one of the candles, as it had gone out when he had fallen, then healed his mouth with a mere flick of his fingers. He wiped away the blood but his hand came away bloodless, and took another draw of his cigarette as though nothing had happened.

"Right, I think that could have been a lot easier," he mused, holding up the key on its broken chain. He whispered another enchantment and it repaired itself even as Robin watched. He slipped it into his pocket along with the gear and smiled indulgently at the Boy Wonder. After regarding him thoughtfully for a moment or two, he crossed to him, clamping his cigarette between his teeth; using both hands, he styled the shocked boy's hair without the aid of gel, pushing it flat and neat, twisting two cowlicks with his fingers.

The way Alfred used to style it for school.

Robin shook him off and turned to him, angry beyond belief. He attempted to mess it up again, just out of spite, but found that, although it was still soft and moveable, he couldn't get it out of that neat style; it simply fell back into place whenever he ran his fingers aggressively through it.

"What did you _do?!_" Robin wailed in frustration.

Seth grinned.

"Got rid of your "Dark, Tough and Brooding" look," he replied simply. "You are no threat to me, human, but I think your black biker clothes made you feel that maybe you _were_. Funny, the illusions self-image conjures…" He grasped the collar of Robin's cape, pulling him into him, to the extent that Robin's feet were practically clear from the floor. "But despite the costume, Boy Wonder," he added nastily, "rest assured that _Batman_ will _not_ be coming to your rescue this time."

He laughed, tossing Robin back to the candle-lit concrete floor.

"Why, in _this_ time, dear Brucie is quite _mad_," he went on, dragging on his cigarette. "Utterly loopy, all because of grief." His eyes narrowed as his green gaze fixed on Robin again. "All because of _you_."

Robin slowly and gingerly got to his feet; Seth snorted in response.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," he said.

As though Robin _cared_ what he thought.

He looked around for the tonfas, suddenly noticing the absence of Slade.

Had he grabbed the orb and escaped? In this wild situation, Robin found himself hoping that he _had_; knowing the "prophecy" wasn't real, it didn't matter if Slade had it anymore. It wasn't like he could _do_ anything with it.

But no… Robin's heart sank. The Orb of Azarath was still there, in the centre of the powder circle.

Glittering mockingly.

"I'm sure he hasn't gone far," Seth said cheerfully, as though…

…_reading his mind_…

A sharp battle cry from Slade confirmed that assumption; Slade seemed to appear out of nowhere, his entire flowing movement like lightning as he launched a flying roundhouse right into the small of Seth's back. With a startled cry of both pain and surprise, the ex-Senator was pitched forwards, tumbling and landing in a crumpled heap.

Slade came to Robin's side as Seth, over ten feet away, struggled to his feet.

"I am by no means done with you, boy," he informed him quietly, "but for now it would seem that we must unite in the face of a common enemy."

Robin nodded, not looking at his arch-enemy, and attempted to shake his hair out of its neat style.

It might as well have been held in place by Superglue, for all the good it did.

Seth straightened up and faced them, no longer smiling. Down the right side of his pale face was a deep gash, the flesh torn away by the concrete of the floor, streaming blood.

He did not bother to heal himself.

His green eyes were blazing with that white/blue light so commonly associated with him.

Slade recognised it as the "seer's" power; Robin recognised it as Seth's own.

Both of them recognised it to be a _bad_ thing.

Slade snapped his retractable bo staff from his belt; instinctively, Robin copied him.

The utility belt of his "new" costume was empty.

Of course; the weapons in his own belt had been taken when Seth had "changed" his clothes. That was probably _why_ Seth had done it.

Seeing his predicament – and through a rare act of… well, _compassion_ – Slade handed him the bo staff.

Robin blinked.

"What? But you-"

"I'll get the kobujutsu," Slade interrupted irritably, thrusting the staff into his hands. "Cover my back."

A strange request to pass between two such as these, but in their present situation Robin couldn't argue. Whether they liked it or not, he and Slade were together now. Seth had lied to them both, tricked them both, _used_ them both, simply because he needed their matching souls for a real prophecy of his own. Robin might have suffered more for it – being needlessly raped, possessed and _killed_ – but both he and Slade were victims.

Together.

"And let's hope that costume is as deceiving as it looks," Slade added smoothly, his voice soft and malicious. "Because right now, boy, you don't look as though you could kick over a house of cards."

"Don't bet on it," Robin muttered. "I could kick in your _head_…"

Slade smiled behind his mask.

"I'm sure you'd like to…"

Without waiting for Robin to offer a snippy reply, Slade dashed forwards again, slicing a hook kick at Seth's neck. Seth avoided it, his robe and long dark hair whipping around his form as he did so. He turned sharply to face Slade, only to have his head snapped back by the other man's elbow. Seth staggered and Slade took the opening, darting across the room for the kobujutsu. Meanwhile, Robin took that to be his cue; his neat hair stayed precisely in place as he somersaulted, clutching Slade's staff, and launched a drop kick at Seth's collarbone. He landed and snapped a lightning-fast switch kick at Seth's mid-section, pixie boot catching the ex-Senator just below his ribcage. A third kick followed, throwing Seth to the concrete floor.

Throughout the entire assault, Seth had not uttered a sound; he not shown any inkling of apparent pain or damage.

Robin felt Slade's presence at his side again but did not turn to him; instead his gaze was fixated on Seth.

The ex-Head Senator – half demon, whatever he was – simply got to his feet. Despite the blood streaming down the side of his face, his smile was back in place.

Aside from that, he did not seem to be hurt in any way.

"I think we might have a problem here," Robin murmured; Slade grunted and nodded slightly in reply.

"Bad idea, boys," Seth said airily, his eyes glowing again. "_Really_ bad idea…"

His fingertips glowed that ghostly blue/white too, and Robin recognised the momentum of the power growing from watching Starfire unleash her starbolts. Panicking, he threw his entire weight into Slade, bringing them both crashing to the hard concrete floor just as the blaze of lethal blue energy shot over their heads.

Slade aggressively shoved him off, gripping the dark kobujutsu as he got to his feet. Seconds later Robin scrambled to his feet also, and once again they faced off against Seth Elliott.

He smiled indulgently.

"Nice save, Robin," he drawled. "A true example of the quick thinking you usually exhibit. That really could have been quite tragic…"

Robin's masked eyes narrowed, and he blew his cowlicks from them; Seth smirked at him.

"Gosh, isn't the last hour of your lives _fun?_" He gushed. "I mean, it's hardly _boring_, now is it?"

"You aren't using us for your prophecy," Slade replied coldly. "_Either_ of us."

Seth snorted.

"That's what _you_ think…"

Slade started for him again, the kobujutsu deadly in his hands; Seth actually seemed to be having trouble dodging it. Seeing that Slade had him on the ropes – or foolishly _assuming_ that he did – Robin too joined the fray, fitting into Slade's attack pattern in the same way as two stacked spoons. Where one drew back the other attacked, and together they furiously beat him down, beat him back—

—Seth reached up suddenly and caught both staffs in each of his hands. He whispered something in Azarathian as Slade and Robin attempted to tug them back from him; they were both sent sprawling backwards as both staffs turned to silk scarves, one black, one scarlet.

Robin was the faster at getting to his feet and – foolishly, weaponlessly – he made for Seth again, already leaping and twisting his whole body into the kick—

The scarves flew from Seth's fingers as though caught in a tornado, knotting themselves together to form one long length. The entire thing, extremely long and deceivingly strong, wrapped around Robin in mid-air and tightened, binding him completely. He fell from the air to the floor, where he squirmed and struggled against his bindings.

But Robin wasn't down quite yet; he still had his power, his control over electricity… It gathered impetus within him and he could feel it crackling throughout his entire body as it built up, heating his blood, making stray soft hairs stand up on end…

He put every ounce of it into the surge, driving every last volt from his body purely by a will that came too easily to him, straight at Seth. It caught the senator full-on, his entire body locking up as thousands of volts coursed through him. His long black hair seemed to stiffen, his fingers curled and froze up, his head went back and his scream was lost within the incessant buzzing that came with Robin's attack...

Standing aside, Slade – the supposed "bad guy" of this picture – found himself hoping against hope that the little bastard finished the _other_ bastard off for good…

The last volt crackled from Robin's spent body and he went limp, still bound, his masked eyes closed and his breathing taxed. Slade didn't come to his side to untie him, however, but the exhausted Boy Wonder wasn't surprised at that. No matter; if Seth was dead – and there was no way he _couldn't_ be – then he would have time to work himself free.

The sound of Seth's soft laughter made his eyes snap open again and he attempted to sit up; tied as tightly as he was by the strong silk, he had no hope.

Still Slade didn't come to help him.

"Stupid mortal," Seth purred; far from being "fried", as Seth had so sensitively put it earlier, the ex-Head Senator was utterly unscathed. Not one shiny ebony hair was out of place; in fact, during the time of his "electrocution", he even seemed to have healed his cheek.

Immaculate.

"Did you really think you could kill me like that?" He crooned mockingly. His handsome expression hardened. "I'm _already dead_, you little fucker; and let me tell you something…"

Seth crouched down next to the bound Robin and placed two fingers on his forehead, right between his cowlicks. Robin struggled to no avail, the horrible smirk on Seth's face frightening him more than anything else he had ever witnessed.

"_I_ gave you that power," Seth whispered, beginning to draw an Azarathian symbol on Robin's forehead with his fingertips. "I gave it to you to stop you from killing yourself all over again; by allowing the electricity to use you as a channel, there was no way you could touch something wet or made of metal and electrocute yourself again. And what's more, now that you've used it all up…"

He finished the symbol and removed his fingers; as he did so an agonizing pain ripped through Robin's forehead, near blinding him, and he could feel… _something_… being torn from him, out through the invisible white-hot symbol on his skin…

"…I can take it away again," he finished softly, getting back to his feet and leaving Robin to shake off the feeling. Once again, the mortal boy was merely… _mortal_…

"Foolish boy," he muttered, walking away. "Your arrogance blinds you; you simply _cannot beat_ me, _either_ of you… After all, you're only _humans_…"

He paused at the edge of the circle, looking around, ignoring Robin's wriggles and grunts as he tried to free himself.

Searching for Slade, who had – once again – pulled a disappearing act.

Only this time the Orb of Azarath too was gone; only the silver cradle remained in the middle of the crimson-powder circle.

Seth burst out laughing and, instead of beginning to search for the once-again elusive villain, lit himself up yet another cigarette.

"I don't know where you think you're going with that, my little rapist," he mused to the empty – albeit Robin - room, laughing still. "You can't _do_ anything with it; all those promises of power were nothing but empty lies…"

Robin frowned, pausing in his regime of struggling; Seth was talking as though Slade was still here. Did that mean he still _was?_ Despite himself, Robin found himself hoping that Slade had got away; if he could destroy the orb, then Seth couldn't use it to get his powers back…

Seth had his back to him, but the Boy Wonder could hear him whispering yet another Azarathian incantation, scantly see the fleeting, graceful movement of his fingers, cigarette smoke trailing behind his right hand as it sailed through the air.

From beyond him suddenly burst bright light, as though a hole had been torn within the very air in front of the senator, leading straight to Heaven. Seth calmly put one arm into this tear, gripped something… and hauled Slade out by his upper right arm, throwing him to the concrete floor. Behind him, the unknown "portal" closed, fading from existence as though it had simply never been there.

"You can't escape me, mortal," Seth said calmly, standing over him, drawing on his cigarette. "Thought you were pretty smart, huh?" Seth shook his head, smiling. "There is no escape for you now, Slade; for you _or_ Richard Grayson. Arella purloined you into a prophecy some seven hundred years ago, choosing the two most unlikely types of candidates to produce a match, hoping that I would never find you both. Since the very _second_ you were conceived I have monitored you, watched over you, assuring that you would be here tonight – right _here_, right _now_ – for this very purpose. I have controlled your entire lives, played you both like puppets… There is nothing left for you now; for _either_ of you. You were both born for this purpose, and I shall _personally_ see to it that you fulfil your destinies."

His terrible smile deepened, looking briefly over at the still-struggling Robin before averting his gaze back to Slade.

"This is the end, gentlemen. For _both_ of you."

He held out his hand to the fallen Slade, but he was certainly not offering to help him up.

"The Orb of Azarath, if you would be so kind," he said coolly, his cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

Slade hesitated.

"I can _force_ you to give it to me if you do not cooperate," Seth murmured dangerously, his eyes glittering. "You both _know_ I can…"

He didn't need to; Slade went into one of the leather pouches of his belt and pulled out the tiny glittering stone ball.

"Slade, don't give it to him!" Robin said desperately, forgetting his binds for the moment.

"Be quiet, Richard, lest I take your voice from you," Seth told him calmly, not turning to the boy. "I _can_ do it, you know…"

"You can take what you like from me," Robin spat. "I'm _not_ letting you fulfil this prophecy…"

Seth actually turned to face him this time, an expression of amusement on his pale, handsome face.

"Oh, I am quite sure that there are _certain_ things you would not wish me to… _relieve_ you of," he mused, a nasty smile playing around his mouth. He raised an eyebrow; "Your _clothes_, for instance, or that certain _other_ thing that you could not really be classed as the "Boy" Wonder without…"

Robin's eyes narrowed at that remark, forcing himself not to appear as alarmed as he was by it.

"You wouldn't dare."

Seth smiled.

"Do not tempt me, Richard, when you know so little of my tendencies. If you value your genitals more than you do a foolishly-voiced dare – as I am quite sure you _do_ – then I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

He turned back to Slade, who had barely moved at all during the senator's bitchy exchange with the bound Boy (for which reason he was now remaining silent) Wonder.

"The orb, you bastard human," Seth said calmly, holding out his hand for it again.

Slade hesitated again, then grudgingly handed it over.

"Thankyou," Seth said curtly, gripping it tightly in his cigarette-less hand.

He promptly kicked Slade in the ribs and something snapped distinctly, making the man double up, and whipped back around to face Robin, slipping the orb into his pocket with the key.

"Your particular destiny is almost upon you," he mused softly. "Perhaps I should share with you what it actually _is_."

"Don't bother," Robin spat in reply. "I'm not doing anything to help _you_."

Seth smirked.

"Oh, I think you will, once you are aware of the… _circumstances_…"

Robin snorted.

"Not likely, you freaking demon…"

Seth's pale face grew whiter than ever.

"You insult me, mortal, when I can so easily dispose of you?"

Robin wriggled against the silk scarves binding him, then shrugged.

"Well, _yeah_," he replied nonchalantly. "Because you _won't_. You _need_ me."

He suddenly felt the tightness of the scarves ease, then realised that they were no longer binding him. However, Seth reached down and roughly hauled him to his feet by the collar of his yellow cape, throwing him up against the wall of the tiny room.

His green eyes were blazing.

"I assure you, human scum, that your arrogance will be your demise," the senator promised quietly, his every syllable shaking.

His fear suddenly draining from him, being overridden by anger and deliberate-obtuseness, Robin returned his gaze, his deep blue eyes behind his mask unblinking.

"I'm not afraid of you," he revelated calmly.

Seth's blazing eyes faded back to their usual green, but he did not smile.

"You will be by the time I'm done with you," he whispered. He slammed the boy against the wall a second time. "And I'm _not_ a _demon_, you worthless mortal…"

He looked briefly behind him at Slade, who was knelt on the floor, one hand clutching at his ribcage.

"_Ugh_, the pair of you make me _retch_," Seth went on. "Good-for-nothing humans; I really don't know why you bother living, you're all so worthless… Arella _would_ have chosen the souls to be mortal; I can't even get a good fight out of you before I kill you. But yet here you both are, bound together only by a prophecy that states that you are similar…"

"I'm nothing like _him_," Robin spat, nodding sharply in Slade's direction.

Seth laughed.

"Of _course_ you are!" He burst out, sounding incredulous. "Would you even _be_ here if you _weren't?_ Those dreams, the hallucination in Arkham Asylum… what were they about? _You being like him!_ It's your deepest fear, but only so because you are afraid that it will come true. Your souls are matched, _bound_… No matter what you do, Robin, all the good deeds, all the saving lives, all the righteous crime-fighting… No matter _what_ you do, you'll _always_ be like him, and the same applies to _him_. There's nothing either of you can do about it…"

"I'm _not_ helping you!" Robin snapped, struggling against Seth's grip on his collar.

Seth's expression hardened once again.

"You _will_, boy, whether you want to or not," he said flatly. "This is what you were _conceived_ to do, and I'll be damned if you leave this place alive. I have perfected everything just to ensure that you would be here tonight, working clear across two time zones, tweaking history… You can't escape me, mortal, or anything I have planned for you. I've watched you your entire life, I know how you think; I know everything about you, Richard John Grayson, _everything_. I can remember your birth – not a pretty sight, I must admit - and your first word, I can remember the first time your father took you up onto the high wire; I can remember every detail of the expression on your face as you watched your parents fall to their deaths eight years ago… I know of every tear that has ever fallen from your oh-so-blue eyes, every word that has ever graced your lips, every thought that has ever entered your mind…"

His dark, deep smirk returned.

"And all the _bad_ things… All the things you would not ever tell _anyone_; some of those naughty, testosterone-fuelled dreams you've had, the terrible, dark, even _suicidal_ thoughts that sometimes cross your mind, your deepest fears and secrets… I know them all, Richard. I even know about your first-ever little jerk-off session. How old were you? Twelve?"

"Eleven."

Robin could have kicked himself as soon as he said it, but it had slipped out before he could stop himself.

"Oh, of course. Couldn't help yourself, could you? Guess you didn't really know what you were doing, just… _experimenting_… Barbara Gordon, wasn't it?" Seth sighed in mock-wist. "Can't deny it, that one's a stiffener…"

"Don't talk about Babs like that," Robin spat, clawing at the hand with which Slade was tightly grasping his collar.

Seth snorted.

"Why not? She's just another mortal, as worthless as _you_, as worthless as your precious _Batman_… _I hate humans_…"

"Gosh, really?" Sarcasm overriding, Robin widened his eyes in feigned surprise as he spoke. "You should make it more obvious, I couldn't tell…"

Seth slammed him against the wall a third time, then threw him to the floor, where the Boy Wonder landed in a crumpled heap.

"You're a cocky one, circus-boy," he mused savagely as Robin struggled to his knees. "But even that smart mouth of yours won't save you now…"

He looked from the boy to Slade, then back again, eyeing them both with equal distaste.

"And rest assured; once you have both served your purposes, you shall be sentenced to the eternity of pain and despair that you both rightfully deserve…"

"But enough about you two," he went on, his tone suddenly brightening considerably. "I tire of speaking of your wretched fates; it's enough to depress anybody…" He clapped his hands together. "This tale bores me; it lacks excitement. I think what it needs is a little _sex_…"

His long thin fingers danced again as he summoned that same glowing vortex – a portal to, it seemed, nowhere - and reached deep within it once again. He gripped something and hauled the small form out by her wrist.

Her deep violet eyes were unusually bright, her pale skin a little flushed, as though she was hot. In place of the clothes she had "died" in – too-big cast-offs of Robin's and her cloak – she now wore a floor-length glowing crimson dress, sleeveless and low-cut, enhancing the enticing fullness of her hips and breasts, with a matching hooded cloak similar to her own, but that same glittering crimson. The material of the gown was very tight, clinging to her immensely-swollen abdomen; she was even bigger than she had been those few days ago. That didn't seem possible, and he stared at her stomach in disbelief, but it was true. She looked about ready to go into labour.

In just over a week.

A platinum ring resided on the ring finger of her right hand, a glowing ruby crowning the gothic-twisted band of precious metal.

Seth's idea of a wedding ring?

_Not bloody likely…_

Seth released her wrist, instead moving behind her. With utmost care he slipped the Blood Diamond out of his pocket and threaded the glittering chain around her throat, clasping it under her hair. It matched her ring, and the tiny gemstone on her ashma chakra.

She didn't react; her silent gaze was on Robin. The boy was on the floor, staring up at her still in disbelief.

"And _voilá_…" Seth murmured his green gaze too on the fallen, speechless Boy Wonder.

"The object of desire," he mused softly. "The _princess_, if you will." He slipped his hands around her, coming to rest on her swollen stomach. "I suppose her already being pregnant devalues her a little, but I'm not one to complain."

He smiled.

"Not when it's _my_ child she carries…"

He kissed her pale cheek, and in his arms Trigon's daughter shivered a little.

Her sad gaze still on Robin.

As though she still believed he could make it all better.

**TT**

Alright? ALRIGHT?

Raven is back! She's in the house, she has returned, the story is no longer Raven-less…

I can't promise you she's going to be _okay_, but there! She isn't dead! Are we satisfied?

Quinn and others who worked out the key (the Blood Diamond); more cookies! Congrats!

Oh, yeah, here's an amusing thing before I leave you all in peace; I did a "Mary Sue Test" on Seth and he came out as an Uber Sue. Mwa ha ha. I was affronted at first but now I think it's hilarious… He was doing rather well until I got to the section where I had to tick boxes for powers and then he just died…

Although the person up there who calls themselves simple "Me" (even though you DO have a pen-name! I know you do!) sent me a link to a _Teen Titans_ version of the Mary Sue test and he didn't come out as a Mary Sue on that (mainly because he's not a self-insert "new Titan" with a troubled past and extraordinary power that s/he can't control, and has a romance with Robin/Raven/Beast Boy/all five Titans…).

So I just thought it was amusing, since no-one has EVER complained about Seth (or Marcus, or Jonathon) ever being Mary Sues.

Anyways, no more terrifying plot twists… for now.

TTYS!

RobinRocks xXx

P.S: Hey, if there are any other competitors in TitansGonet's _Author Idol_, let me know! I am interested to see who I am up against…


	22. Truth is Beauty

OMG! Mucho stuff! Fiiiiiirst… I got through Round One of Author Idol on TGN! Yay! It was tight – I think I have some very good competition and the girl role-playing as Simon Cowell is very good at it. So you know that means she ripped it to shreds. -- Still, I'm through, so… My entry is called _Jillionaire _and if you have me on Author Alert you'll have noticed that I just posted it up. We're allowed to after it's been judged, so I thought I'd put it up so anybody interested can see my entry. Alternately, if you toddle on over to the TGN Forum itself, you can see all 36 entries and the judges' comments. Some of them are… _ouch_. O.o At least I didn't get told to go back to 4th grade writing class…

Second, the "laptop saga" has finally reached an end. My dad bought me a beautiful new one which I like very much indeed. It's the new Toshiba Satellite with the brand new Windows Vista system. It is SO awesome. Anyone else who has Windows Vista will know all the stuff the new system can do. I have clocks, calendars and "sticky-notes" on my desk-top (with my fanfic To-Do List on it…), the "My Pictures" file icon shows an unbelievably teeny tiny thumbnail version of the first picture in the folder, which happens to be the scanned-up version of the "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" chapter title page from _Black Magic_ (it is SO cute!), and there's an inclusive game on there called _Purble Place_. It sucks and is for like, 5 year olds, but it's the principle – it's got really good graphics…

Um, well, enough about the laptop. I still miss my old one, but it died a messy death, so I don't think I'll be seeing that again. There go some perfectly good metallic _Justice League_ stickers… On the other hand, a new laptop means somewhere to finally stick my glittery puffy _Batman: The Animated Series_ stickers!

Oh, and according to me, it is still March. I couldn't put up with looking at Mas y Menos for a whole month, so I've gone back to March (Robin). When May rolls around (Cyborg) I'll change it. And not a moment before.

Thankyous go out to: **Amara-Chan **(I think a lot of people are glad Raven is back…); **Yami-Tai** (yup, you were right about Seth's name, and a lot of other things too!); **KG-Diva **(thankyou! You are so much kinder than Simon Cowell over at Author Idol!); **Someone **(jeez, you're like "Me: Part Two"… Robin is being a bit idiotic at the moment, but he is way out of his depth… He'll be back to his usual ass-kicking self soon!); **Halfdemongirl **(hello. Haven't seen you for a while. Nice to have you back. Just stop eating all the cookies…); **Guardian of Azarath **(if you figured out the Blood Diamond was the key, then a cookie for you, my friend!); **Quinn and His Quill **(yes, you've been right about a lot so far, although I suspect Zac may have had something to do with at least some of it…); **Jennie **(it made you squee and snerk. Did it make you squick too (because I love that word…):D I'm glad you enjoyed the necromancy and I hope your Easter was at least slightly restful…); **Simmie **(I don't know about winning Author Idol – Simon was soooo mean… And yeah! Raven! Whoo!); **Ray1 **(Slade and Robin might have a word or two with Seth.. if they can manage to get near enough to him without getting smacked…); **Crazy Insomniac **(if people could vote in Author Idol, I might have a better chance of winning. Unfortunately I am at the mercy of Simon. Oh woe! Although a Nobel Prize would be nice too…); **Me** (um, well, I hope you managed to glue your brain back together. You probably need something like that…); **The GmR** (well, uh… you liked it, then?); **Dark Austral** (oh, there's always a drama with Robin. The title "So the Drama" is completely wasted on _Kim Possible_, as cool as the show is…); **Kami-Elf **(okay, okay, calm down. You don't like Seth. Got it.); and **Athena's Wings **(another old face! Nice to have you back too! Seth, oh Seth… yeah, he has a lot to answer for…).

Right…

Truth is Beauty

**Gotham City; October, sixteen years ago - **

_Summer in Gotham was always short; at the most, three months of real sunshine. Even fall, as it was now, harboured conditions usually associated with the much-harsher season of winter._

_Circus trailers weren't warm, as a rule, and now, at 8:30pm, it was cold and dark outside, and a little of that coldness crept inside._

_A fan-heater rested at Mary Grayson's feet as she sat in her chair, mending a rip in John's red "Flying Graysons" embossed leotard; another one was in Dick's – she had gotten her way – room, heating it up._

_He had been exactly eight months old a few days ago, and ever since that day in March, when he had been given to them four days prior to his due date, Mary and John Grayson had been utterly besotted and enthralled by their baby son._

_He was asleep right now, but she would go and wake him in a minute to bath him and give him his last feed._

_John was over at the Big Top, checking the lighting with Pop Haley – there had been a problem with it, apparently. But he would be back soon, so she thought it best to try and get his leotard fixed before then; he might need it for tomorrow, and looking after Dick was such a 24-7 job she might not get any other time…_

_In the small adjoining room, lit only by a night-light, Richard John "Dick" Grayson was sitting up in his cot, far from asleep. He had awoken a few minutes ago, and had since then decided that it was far more exciting being awake. He was a peaky little thing, with pale skin and a shock of jet black hair, which was messy from where he had been fast asleep. He had his mother's eyes; large, almond-shaped deep pools of azure, and they were bright with intelligence and interest as he looked around. His fleecy romper suit was red and green, wrinkled and with a stain on the front where he had spat out the first mouthful of his dinner because he didn't like it._

_All of his toys – he had far too many of them, all gifts from the other circus members – were in a cardboard box in the corner, apart from a red and yellow fluffy stegosaurus, which he was slapping experimentally from a distance with his chubby little fingers._

_It wasn't responding to his abuse._

_He picked the dinosaur up and hugged it for a bit, then bashed it a few times against the bottom of his cot, holding it by the red felt plates on its back._

_No response._

_He put the dinosaur aside and looked up._

_A man was leaning over the end of his cot, his arms folded across the top of the headboard; there was a cigarette held carelessly in one hand. Long ebony hair fell in shining layered spikes around his face and shoulders, contrasting against the long purple robe – with a stiff, extended Dracula-esque collar – he wore open over the rest of his outfit; blue All-American jeans and a tight-fitting black t-shirt. He wore black, slightly-pointed biker boots on his feet, and black leather gloves on his long, slim hands. _

_A crimson jewel on a thin silver chain hung at his neck, and a heavy gold pocket watch dangled from the breast pocket of his violet robe._

_His emerald eyes glittered._

_He did not look a day older than twenty-four._

_Seth Elliott smiled down at the eight-month-old baby in his cot._

"_Hello, Richard," he purred, sounding pleased with himself. "My word, every time I see you you've grown so much bigger…"_

_He drew on his cigarette as the little boy looked up at him, his head on one side._

_Seth came to this time often to check on the boy – the Richard Grayson he had chosen to play the much-needed part in the prophecy – and it was true; he had grown every time. He had witnessed the child's birth – on hand in case complications occurred – on that four-days-early date in March, shortly before departing to Azarath to be made Head of the Azarathian Senate. Eight months on, he was well into the job, enjoying the power and freedom it granted him, while Richard Grayson grew. It would be a long time yet before the prophecy – in a time fifteen years on from this one – would be ready to be fulfilled. Until then, this little boy had a hard life ahead of him._

_Seth knew, because he had seen the "Robin" of the other time already go through it. He was seventeen now, still recovering from the deaths of his friends, but he was useless to Seth and his needs; quite simply, he was fifteen years older than Seth needed him to be. But he had lost his parents aged eight years old, been taken on as the ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne and the sidekick of Batman, had gone on to become the leader of the Teen Titans, and had let them die at Slade's hand…_

_This "Robin" still had all that to come._

_That, and a whole lot more that Seth had planned for him._

_Seth extinguished his cigarette on the palm of his hand and slipped the dead smoke into his pocket. He then reached into the cot and picked Dick up. The little boy did not struggle – more reaching up to be lifted – but that was only because Seth was controlling his will, forcing him not to start crying. He was only eight months old, true, but Richard Grayson was very intelligent. Even now, with his infant will submerged, the look in his blue eyes was almost… one of mistrust._

_Seth brought him to his chest and held him there gently, rocking him. Immediately the baby yawned, his eyes fluttering before closing. Seth relinquished the hold over the boy's will, allowing him to become merely drowsy. He was practically asleep already._

_Seth was not indifferent to him; in truth, he rather liked the feeling of the little boy in his arms. His tiny heart fluttered like a caged nightingale, his ribs were so thin and flexible they felt like plastic BBQ skewers beneath his flesh. His whole form was so small and warm and soft that Seth could have – admittedly – stood there and held him all night. He truly was a lovely-looking baby, with the same jet-black hair, brilliant blue eyes and pale, heart-shaped face he would carry through with him to his teenage years and beyond._

_But it was only his longing for a child of his own that made him feel this way. But not just any child; no, it had to be special. He had already planned it all out, but he would have to wait sixteen years in this time before he could get it underway. As well as playing his own role in the prophecy, Dick Grayson was to be a "vessel" of sorts, to be used to impregnate Trigon's daughter, still too only a baby at the moment. At almost a year old, Raven was four months older than Dick, and already walking and beginning to use her gifts._

_Seth took great pleasure in watching her, and not without the secret delight at knowing that one day, in sixteen years' time, she would be carrying his child._

"_I've seen you," Seth whispered to the sleeping baby curled up in his arms against his chest. "An older you; sixteen years older…" He paused, then smiled. "You're going to be very handsome, you know…"_

_Dick stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake up._

_Seth snorted to himself._

"_Funny… I don't despise you nearly as much when you are like this," he mused, more to himself. "A baby, I mean. Even though you are a mortal…" _

_He took one of Dick's little claw hands in his own large one, touching each of his tiny fingers. _

"_You're a beautiful baby, aren't you?…" Seth sighed, rocking him again. "So tiny, and yet so perfect…"_

_Dick's tiny fingers gripped Seth's hand in his sleep._

"_A truly wondrous creation," Seth went on, sounding as though he was speaking a monologue. "And a wonder in itself, that you – a whole new person – were created by your parents' "Too-much-4th-July-punch-and-candy-corn" excitement… Already your destiny has been mapped out, "Robin", and it has been so for seven hundred years. Your soul has, by the threads of destiny themselves, been bound to another, and there is nothing you can do to change it. Your destiny will come upon you, and you shall fulfil the purpose for which you were conceived all those months ago. You will be sixteen and a half years old, and many unspeakable things will have happened to you by then. Stains on your soul, dear boy…"_

_Seth kissed Dick's silky black hair._

"_And then, when you have fulfilled your destiny, and your purpose to me…" he whispered, "…You shall die…"_

_Seth gently laid the baby boy back into his cot, where he continued to sleep soundly. The Head Senator placed the fluffy dinosaur up beside him and Dick curled up against it, clutching at it with his tiny fingers._

_From beyond the small room suddenly came Mary Grayson's voice, and Seth knew it was time to make himself scarce. Employing his spectral Soul-Self, he encompassed himself within the shadows of the dimly-lit room._

_Watching._

_Waiting._

_Biding._

_The door to Dick's room opened._

"…_I'll just wake him up, John," she was saying, addressing her husband in the main room of the trailer. "I need to get him cleaned up and fed…"_

"_Ok, I'll get the water running," John Grayson's voice came back, and the sound of a running tap came with it._

_Her long dark hair bouncing on her shoulders, Mary – beautiful, acrobatic, elegant – made her way across the room to her baby son's cot. She leaned over it, hooking one slim hand beneath his curled-up form and lifting him, still sleeping, into a sitting position. He stirred, his blue eyes opening, and yawned and stretched adorably._

"_Come on, little Robin," Mary crooned, lifting him up and taking him to her chest. "Mommy's here… Let's go and get you cleaned up, hmm?"_

_Seth watched her while she played a few silly, motherly games with him; pretending to bite the tip of his nose, peek-a-boo, crap like that… The little boy squeaked and squawked with broken, infantile laughter, tugging at his mom's long black hair. She laughed and put him over her shoulder, so that he was looking back as she took him out of the room._

_Seth's spectral cloak faded, revealing him half-shadowed in his dark corner._

_He lit himself up another cigarette._

_His green eyes glittered, holding that terrible promise._

_Able to see him – even though Mary Grayson couldn't – the eight-month old Dick Grayson promptly burst into tears. _

**TT**

"Your destiny is upon you, mortal boy," Seth whispered, his arms protectively around his so-called bride. "The promise I have been repeatedly making to you since the day of your conception will be realised tonight…"

Still on the floor, the sixteen-and-a-half year old dark-haired boy could offer no answer. Dressed in garish scarlet and green attire far too young for him – even though it fitted him perfectly – with his ebony hair shining in a neat, cow-licked style that again made his round face look even younger, Richard John Grayson – the boy with a seven hundred year old destiny – was speechless, numb inside.

His usually-sharp mind was blank.

All he knew was that he was going to die tonight.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

In Seth's arms, Raven suddenly let out a tiny moan and put her hands to her forehead. She quivered in his grip, but Seth did not seem to be too perplexed by her behaviour.

Robin got to his knees, shaking too, his gaze on Raven.

"What did you do to her?" He asked softly, watching her as she massaged her forehead with her palms.

"Nothing," Seth replied breezily. "Just the sedative I gave her wearing off. I had to calm her down, she was kicking up a right fuss…"

He rocked her in his arms, one hand possessively on her swollen stomach, and Robin wanted to tear him from her.

But he couldn't. With the tiniest flick of his fingers, Robin knew that Seth could kill him. He could kill _Slade_.

They were mortals.

Mortals without a hope.

Raven closed her violet eyes for a second; then they reopened, and she looked at Robin as though seeing him for the first time.

Seconds passed…

"Robin!"

With sudden, unexpected strength, the pregnant girl tore herself from Seth's grip and shot for Robin a few feet away; her extra weight and long dress combined caused her to stumble, and she too fell to her knees. She looked up, reached out for him, and he took her hands and roughly pulled her to him.

They embraced tightly and Raven started to cry.

"You were _right!_" She choked into him, clutching at him with all of her strength. "You were right…" She sobbed harder, drawing a little away from him and looking down at her swollen abdomen.

"It's not human…" She leaned against him again, crying into the shirt-like collar of his silky yellow cape. "It's not even _yours_…"

"It's ok," he whispered, squeezing her.

Lying.

"It's _not_ okay…" Raven shook her head violently. "You were right, you're _always_ right, Robin… I should have _listened_ to you in the first place, but I didn't want to believe you… If only I'd _listened_…"

"This would have happened anyway," Robin said softly. "_You_ know that, and _I_ know that. _Seth_ did this, Raven; it had nothing to do with us. We had no choice in _any_ of this…"

"We _have_ to get rid of it…" Raven sobbed. "We'll have an abortion, yes? Like you suggested?..."

He almost laughed. Did she truly believe that they were just going to walk out of here and go home, to find themselves back in their own happy time, problem solved?

"No, Raven," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "It's too late now. You'll… you'll marry Seth, be his queen… You'll give birth to his child, you'll…"

The rising bitterness in his throat near choked him and he couldn't finish.

"It's _over_, Raven," he went on, his voice softer still, his words forced. "_Everything_. He's won…" He twisted his mouth into a sad smile – it was actually quite painful to do so, but he did it for her benefit.

"Guess there's just no breaking prophecies, huh?"

She burst into a fresh round of tears and he bit his lip.

"I don't want it to be the end…" she choked. "_Not yet_…"

He blinked at that.

"_What?..._ What do you mean, "Not yet?"…" He asked suspiciously.

"_It doesn't matter_," Raven whispered in reply. "_Not anymore_…" She looked up at him, blinking back her tears. "I'm _not_ marrying him," she said savagely. "_Never_. And I'm _not_ giving birth to this… this… _thing_ inside me!"

_You think you have a choice?_

Robin didn't voice it, but it was the only thing going through his mind as he looked at her. Seth had said he was unable to control Raven's will – well, maybe so, but Robin now looked at her swollen stomach, at the crimson dress she wore, and wanted to scream with frustration. Maybe he was _physically_ unable to control Raven, but through Robin, he had controlled her anyway. Impregnated her by another means; grafted a fake love-affair, forcing her to love a boy who, really and truly, she only saw as a friend. Through Robin, he had broken everyone _around_ the Boy Wonder too; Slade, Raven, Batman, the Teen Titans…

Just as he had wanted.

Raven gently kissed Robin on the mouth, but he did not respond to it. She pulled back, her eyes brimming again, and he saw himself reflected in those deep purple pools. He saw her hand touch his mouth, healing his hurt jaw; then wiping away the worst of the blood. He exhaled heavily as she kissed his forehead, right between his cowlicks.

He felt the Blood Diamond, now around her neck, pressing against his chest.

"_I love you_," she whispered.

He opened his mouth.

"I-"

The moment was broken as Seth, behind them, silent all that time, burst out laughing.

"And he loves you too, of course," he interrupted, laughing still. "As though he has any kind of _choice_, Raven, my dear!" He smiled horribly. "But I'm _glad_ he loves you back… because that's precisely what I _need_ from him…"

He swept down and caught Raven's wrist, pulling her away from Robin; or _attempting_ to. However, Raven clung desperately to the Boy Wonder and they were both hauled to their feet by Seth. The ex-Head Senator quickly disentangled them and pulled the heavily-pregnant girl back to his form, clutching her covetously; his prize. She struggled but he would not let her go, and Robin wondered why she didn't use her powers.

Had Seth done something _else_ to her? Or was it simply because she knew they would not work against him?...

Seth didn't seem satisfied, however, that Robin would simply stay put, and raised a hand and spread his fingers; from the pointed tips them began to weave a strange black energy, much like Raven's own. But this twisted and coiled, like a drop of ink into water; liquid-like, and growing by the second. And as Robin watched it warily, it gained sudden momentum and seemed to explode upwards and outwards, straight at him. He gave a startled little cry as it engulfed him, and a basic defensive block did nothing to stop it from doing so; it cascaded over him, bitter-tasting; and hauled him upwards.

By the time he had regained his sense of position, he found that he was suddenly much higher up than his own height gave him. The black… _power_, whatever it was… had become something of a pillar of such, still writhing, even pulsing a little. And he was trapped right within it – most of his body was free, but with it up to his thighs and elbows he couldn't pull free; there was no leverage for him to gain.

Seth smiled up at him, clutching the quivering Raven to him.

The Boy Wonder's sharp gaze flickered briefly, between half-hearted tugs at the substance binding him, searching for Slade, who had been very quiet and non-interfering throughout most of this charade. He saw the masked man, now on his feet, one hand at his ribs still.

Despite the fighting spirit that coursed within them both, Robin knew that he and Slade saw eye-to-eye (literally in Slade's case) on this; it was over.

Seth had beaten them both.

"Do you wish for me to inform you of the rules of the prophecy, Richard?" Seth asked softly, making Robin avert his gaze from Slade to _him_. "Now that Raven has joined us I see no reason why we cannot proceed." He patted Raven's bump as he said her name.

Robin looked at Raven; her eyes were wide and frightened, but she remained silent.

He looked at Slade, who simply returned his gaze, his single grey eye icy and emotionless.

He looked at Seth, who smiled at him, his arms around Raven, clutching her possessively.

He sighed defeatedly, looking at the dark concrete floor, which suddenly seemed so far down….

"Fine," he said dejectedly, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

If this was what he had been _conceived_ to do, then why argue? _Why fight?..._

Seth smiled.

"There's a good boy," he whispered patronisingly. He gave his terrified bride-to-be a squeeze, pressing her against his side. "Now, if my memory serves me correctly, the prophecy itself is more a sort of set of rules; only when they are broken, or succeeded, shall my power be freed from its prison and returned to me;"

"_When the very Earth itself bleeds; _

_When vows and promises are broken; _

_When apprentice shall turn on master;_

_When such love is the cause, and promise, of a sacrifice for another;_

_When Said Duplicate Souls are merged with a power beyond a mortal capability;_

_Only then shall the power within be unleashed, bore by its rightful owner;_

_Only then shall tyranny reign once more…"_

"…So I fixed it all," Seth explained, excitement present within his glittering eyes now. "You two – Slade and Robin – are the "Said Duplicate Souls", and in death you shall both be merged to form the sacrificial power needed…" His gaze fixed on Robin like glue, making the boy shiver. "The rest was relatively easy; you, Robin, once made a "vow" to Batman to forever uphold the ideals of justice, promising never to use your "power" to do anything other than fighting for good… _which_, of course, you _broke_ when you masqueraded under the guise of "Red X" to try and catch Slade; as Slade's apprentice you betrayed him, disobeying and turning on him… The _other_ things will be fulfilled now, when you do what is required of you…"

"Robin, whatever he says, _don't_ do it!" Raven cried desperately, fighting in Seth's grip.

But Robin knew what he had to do; he understood now, and he knew there was no way he could refuse.

_When such love is the cause, and promise, of a sacrifice for another…_

He had to sacrifice himself to save Raven.

Seth smiled, knowing that he knew.

"It's your decision, circus boy," he said softly. "I would _force_ you to do it, but if I do that, the prophecy will not be fulfilled, because it must be of your own will – your _love_ for her – for it to have any value or worth."

"You won't kill her," Robin replied with far more confidence than he felt, glaring down at the ex-senator. "She's carrying your baby. If you kill _her_, you'll kill your child."

"I assure you, mortal, that I am able to sustain the life of my child even if Raven dies," Seth purred. "I do not _wish_ to kill her, of course – as Trigon's daughter she is hardly as worthless as a mortal such as yourself – but if I must threaten her welfare to initiate the wilful giving-up of your _own_ life, then I will."

"But if what you said is true, that you _forced_ me to love her," Robin pointed out scathingly, "then how can it work?"

Seth laughed softly.

"Dear boy, the love I speak of is not merely the infatuous kind; the _lustful_ kind in which you fantasise shamelessly about her exploring your naked body with the big fluffy ostrich feather you saw in her room the last time you were in there…"

Even the pink that flushed Robin's face at that was pale, as though his blood was slowly freezing with every word Seth spoke, stopping it from getting to his face despite his humiliation.

"No, mortal," Seth went on, smiling at the pink tinge to Robin's cheeks – horrified at realising that even his horny-teenaged-boy fantasies weren't safe from one such as Seth Elliott – as he stroked the side of Raven's pale face.

"The love I speak of is one that I assure you… you _do_ truly feel for her. One that you feel for _all_ of your little friends, one which you feel for Batman, and for the old butler… For you to sacrifice yourself for her, you do not desperately have to want to "stick it in" – although I'm sure you _do_, unworthy human; you have to truly see her as something _other_ than a sexual object, and you _do_. You do… because you are her _friend_."

Seth looked down at Raven at this point.

"Of course," he went on jauntily, "this could go the _other_ way. My primary intention was for _you_, Robin, to sacrifice yourself for _her_, but… if the notion of that upsets her that badly, _she_ can have the honour of allowing herself to die for _you_. As long as the sacrifice is out of love, then it really doesn't matter which of you dies for the other. I'd consider asking Slade, of course, but I'm pretty sure that our little rapist doesn't have any room for anything as complicated as love in that tiny mind of his…"

He looked lazily over his shoulder at Slade, who was still clutching at his ribs, merely watching. Dismissing him quickly, Seth turned back to Robin and Raven.

"Decisions, decisions, huh?" He mused dryly, looking from one to the other. "Well, which of you will it be? I'm really not bothered, you know; my child will live. I'll just be queenless. I mean, I _was_ looking forward to the wedding, and, more importantly, the wedding _night_, but I can manage without." His eyes narrowed in Robin's direction and he squeezed Raven again. "I would, however, prefer it if it was _you_, circus boy," he added coldly. "Moreover because Raven's breeding is too good for her to be lowered to sacrificing herself for a mere mortal boy. For _you_."

Raven tried to break from his grip again, but the ex-Head Senator held her firmly this time. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands on her swollen stomach once again.

His terrible gaze, however, was on Robin.

"You aren't going to make me _hurt_ her, are you, boy?" He whispered. "Are you truly that selfish?"

Robin opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Robin, don't listen to _anything_ he says!" Raven snapped, near tears as she struggled against Seth's strong grip. "If you sacrifice yourself he'll win!"

"And if you _don't_," Seth added softly, "_you'll_ be the one responsible for her needless death."

Robin's expression was a pained one as he made a decision, still held captive by Seth's power; weighing everything out. On this hand… But on _that_ hand… If he... But if he _didn't_…

He looked up, trying to force himself to stop shaking.

"I'll do it," he whispered.

Seth smiled and the power whipped away as though a gust of wind had done so; Robin fell those several feet and landed awkwardly and painfully on the concrete. Not high enough to do any real damage, but he hadn't been prepared for it at all, and winced in agony as he dragged himself back to his feet.

"NO!"

Raven broke from Seth again as she watched the Boy Wonder do so, clutching his scraped elbows as she reached him.

"Robin, don't-"

"I'm _not_ letting him hurt you," Robin interrupted fiercely. "And if I have to die to stop him from doing so, then I _will_."

"Robin, you _can't!_" Raven was desperate, near tears. "You _can't_ let him have his power back!"

"I have to."

His voice was utterly expressionless.

"I was _born_ for this, Raven," he went on flatly. "I'm not allowing _you_ to suffer for my destiny."

"You won't." Blinking back tears, Raven's pale face hardened. "_I'm_ doing it."

Uncontrollable anger welled within him at that, and he grasped her wrists hard, hurting her; she cried in pain but he did not relinquish his grip on her.

"No you are _not!_" He snapped. "What, am I speaking _French?!_"

"Yes I _am_." She pulled herself from his grip, ignoring his French-speaking quip. "And I'm taking his damned unborn baby with me."

Robin stared at her.

"Didn't you _hear_ him?!" He spat finally. "The baby _won't_ _die!_ He knows how to-"

"Robin, he's _lying_." Raven's voice was calm in comparison to his. "He's bluffing, to get you die without hesitation."

"You don't know that."

"I do." She smiled faintly. "He's not the _only_ one who can read minds."

She walked past him towards the powder circle, but her heavy pregnancy slowed her considerably and he grabbed her, whipping her back around.

"You. Are. _Not_. Doing. It." He spoke every word as an entirely new sentence to accentuate his point.

"_Yes I am_." Tears glittered in Raven's amethyst eyes and she put a hand to her stomach. "Aside from _this_, I… I have my _own_ reasons…"

"Reasons to commit suicide?! _Like what?!_" Robin challenged her, near hysterical.

She smiled faintly again.

"Something that will never matter now…"

He grasped her wrist again.

"There's _something_ you aren't telling me!" He spat.

"It doesn't matter, Robin." Raven kissed his forehead. "It really doesn't… Not anymore…"

She turned away from him… and found Seth blocking her path.

His eyes glowed and suddenly Raven doubled up, screaming; she collapsed, clutching at herself, curling up, screaming and screaming in utter agony…

"What are you _doing_ to her?!" Robin shrieked, his cape flying as he dropped to his knees beside her.

"Killing her."

Seth's voice was bland and icy, and Robin looked up at him in despair.

"Don't…" he said weakly. "Don't kill her; I'll do it. I _said_ that I would do it…"

"Then get in the damn circle, boy."

"_Stop_ first!" Robin pleaded. "Stop, she's going to _die_…"

Seth jerked his head in assertion and let off; Raven promptly stopped screaming, slumping in a quivering heap. Robin pulled her to him, shaking her. Her violet eyes opened, focusing blearily on him and his concerned expression. He breathed a sigh of relief; then realised that Seth would not have been so stupid as to allow her to die. Knowing that he had almost run out of time, he kissed the tiny jewel on her ashma chakra.

"I love you too, Ray," he murmured.

Seth impatiently reached down and grasped the boy's wrist, hauling him to his feet. Raven collapsed on the concrete floor, trying to get up even as Seth dragged Robin away.

She found Slade next to her. He unceremoniously pulled her to her feet, letting her rest against him.

Grateful as she was, Raven couldn't find it within her to verbally thank him. It was, after all, Slade's greed, his lust for power, that had allowed Seth to get this far at all.

Seth summoned the empty silver cradle for the Orb of Azarath to him, slipping it into his pocket, before throwing Robin into the blood-red powder circle. The boy landed in another dazed, aching heap and struggled to right himself as Seth went through his pockets, searching for the prophecy itself.

He was distracted from such as Slade kicked him a clear seven feet from his original position. Wasting no time, the masked villain turned sharply to Robin.

"Get out of that thing, boy," he spat. "Don't give him that goddamn power or we'll _all_ suffer for it…"

"So, the same as if _you_ had gotten the orb's power?" Robin mused bitterly, getting to his pixie-booted feet.

"I suggest you curb your "amusing" quips, boy," Slade replied coldly. "It would seem that our adversary is in no mood for humour…"

Robin went to the edge of the circle… and was thrown backwards by a sudden wall of blood-red energy that burst from nowhere as soon as he tried to step beyond the ellipse's powder border.

The same wall that had repelled Slade, too.

Panicking, Robin scrambled to his feet and went to the edge again, tentatively reaching out a hand. The red sparked again from nothing as he tried to touch beyond the invisible forcefield. It felt as though his hand was pressing flat against a brick wall, even though there was technically nothing there. He hammered against it to no avail, then kicked it full on, resulting in him being pitched onto his rear, still within the circle.

As he got up again, Seth swept from nowhere, elbowing Slade in the ribs. Already injured there, Slade gasped behind his mask and staggered backwards, clutching at his chest.

"I tire of you both," Seth said, sounding immensely bored, his gaze going from Slade to Raven, who was still recovering from _her_ run-in with him, and then back again. He snapped his fingers and two more thick pillars of writhing black energy burst from the surface of the concrete floor, substantial tendrils wrapping around Slade and Raven, binding them tightly. Both struggled, but to no avail.

"_Such trophies_," Seth mused sarcastically. "My bride, and my favourite little rapist… Unfortunately, I have _other_ uses for the latter… _That is_…"

He turned sharply to Robin, who was clawing desperately at the red wall of energy preventing his escape.

"…_After_ I am done with _you_, circus boy…" he finished icily. He smiled indulgently. "And don't bother trying to escape; that wall is mortal-proof. Neither you nor Slade can enter or escape that magical circle if I do not desire you to. Something which you have both amply proved tonight, I might add."

He fished in his pocket again, extracting the prophecy by its silver chain. He slipped it over his own head, flicking his hair out from underneath it. Once he was done adjusting it he walked purposefully into the circle, his green eyes focused on Robin.

The boy stood his ground, but Seth saw him stiffen almost-imperceptibly as he reached him.

"Take off your gloves," the ex-Head Senator ordered.

Robin blinked, not sure he had heard right.

"Sorry, I-"

"Take them off, mortal, and be quick about it," Seth interrupted angrily.

Robin removed his green gloves, letting them fall to the floor.

"Your wrists."

Seth drew a thin silver knife from the back pocket of his leather pants even as he spoke. Alarmed – realising what Seth was going to do – Robin stepped back from him.

"Don't be a fool, boy," Seth snapped, holding out a hand. "Don't prolong the inevitable."

"Robin, _DON'T!_" Raven screamed at him.

Robin offered Seth his right wrist, upturned to show the deep blue veins close to the surface of his translucent skin.

"Goddamn you, boy, are you _stupid?!_" Slade shouted at him.

Seth took Robin's thin wrist in his hand, thumb and first finger on either side of it. He placed the cold, sharp edge of the knife against the boy's skin with the other.

Raven started to cry, her eyes suddenly becoming four, blazing crimson as though covered in a film of blood.

"Robin, _listen_ to me!" She choked, tears streaming down her face from each of her four eyes. "Don't do this! _Robin_-"

Robin closed his eyes and looked away as the knife bit into his wrist. He made a sound halfway between a cry and a gasp as he felt the stinging of the blade cutting cleanly through his skin, through his veins…

He pulled his hand back, his fingers clawed as he looked at his severed wrist in despair. Already blood was streaming down the length of his arm.

"And the other one."

Robin looked up at Seth, his eyes frightened as he gripped his cut wrist with his other hand, trying to stem the blood flow.

"_ROBIN!_" Raven screamed. "Don't do _anything_ he says, do you hear me?!"

Looking briefly at her, Robin offered Seth his other wrist, gingerly taking his now-bloody left hand from his already-cut one.

"_There's a good boy_," Seth whispered for a second time. "_All be over soon_…"

The knife tasted mortal flesh again and Robin collapsed to his knees, weakening already. Blood streamed in torrents from both of his wrists, staining his arms and hands too with that slick crimson liquid.

Satisfied, Seth licked the blade clean and pocketed it again. He then turned on his heel and swept back out of the circle, his black robe flowing behind him.

"Now then…" Seth snapped his fingers and the energy binding Raven suddenly released her, petering from existence; she collapsed forwards to the floor, one hand protectively at her stomach despite her earlier words. Seth moved to her, pulling her to her feet.

"Come, my bride," he whispered, entwining his arms around her swollen form once again. "Let the Knave of Hearts willingly give his life for you; let the prophecy be fulfilled…"

Behind them, Slade struggled still in vain.

Ignoring him, Seth turned back to Robin; the boy was on his knees, bent over, his eyes almost closed. His breathing was becoming very shallow and there was a pool of blood gradually forming around him.

Seth smiled.

"I have anticipated this moment since the very second your mother brought you into the world," he said indulgently, squeezing Raven to his side. "Watching you die, I mean…"

Robin lifted his head weakly, fighting blackness.

"Glad… it gives you… so much pleasure…" he replied, his voice breathless and bitter.

"Oh, it _does_…" Seth touched the platinum and ruby ring on Raven's finger. "But I am afraid I must ask one more thing of you, Richard, before we may begin."

"_Robin_," Raven whispered, tears still streaming down her face; her eyes had returned to normal, and now they were fixed desperately on the dying boy in the middle of the magical circle. "Robin, for Azar's sake, _don't_ do what he says…"

Seth gently put his hand over her mouth, stopping her from voicing any more pleas to the boy she falsely-loved.

"Stand up, please, Richard," he ordered calmly. "You need to be standing."

"Stay _down_, boy!" Slade snapped in counter from beyond them.

Robin paid no attention, instead hauling himself to his feet, where he swayed, blood dripping from his fingertips – it was running down the entire lengths of his bare hands.

"Good boy. One final thing," Seth said perkily. "Just to let you know that you'll die, of course, within the Sacrificial Circle, but at the moment of death your soul will be torn from your mortal body and summoned to me. It will go into _here_…" He tapped the stone pendant – the prophecy – hanging at his neck. "…To be joined by Slade's once I have done away with him also. Your souls will be merged within the prophecy and be used as the source for the Summoning."

"Now…" Seth retrieved the knife from his pocket and tilted Raven's head back, placing the length of his blade against her bared throat. His hand gagged her but her eyes were open, still on Robin.

The room suddenly plunged into darkness again, lit only by the hundreds of candles like tiny fairies scattered all over the room, around the circumference of the circle. His eyes glowing with ghostly power, Seth spoke in his native tongue, whispering that fluent Azarathian incantation he had already uttered, summoning forth the power of the prophecy. The blue writing materialised again from the very air; blue neon glowing in darkness.

Tightening his grip on his "bride-to-be", Seth's blazing gaze was on Robin; the silver of the knife flashed against Raven's throat. Tears shone in her eyes; the narrow candlelight enhanced her swollen stomach.

"Do you, Richard John Grayson," Seth whispered in English, "offer to sacrifice your mortal life to save this one whom you love dearly? Do you offer, by the blood you have already spilled, for your being to be succumbed by those that would devour it in order to preserve the life of Raven Roth? Do you, with all of your soul, mind and being, give yourself willingly for her?"

It sounded like a question of matrimony.

_Do you, Richard John Grayson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?_

'_Til death does part you?_

_I do._

That was the answer; those two words.

He looked at Raven through his blacking vision. She shook her head desperately, tears on her face, still falling, and Seth pressed the knife harder against her throat.

He had no choice.

He looked at Seth defiantly.

"I do," he replied firmly, his wrists freely dripping blood to the concrete floor.

As the words left his lips the powder that made up the circle suddenly seemed to dissolve, become liquid.

Red liquid that glittered in the flickering candlelight.

Somehow; _blood_.

He now stood in a circle drawn in blood, each tiny Azarathian symbol crafted too from this life-giving solution, bleeding all over the floor himself. The blood – his _own_ blood – pooling around him began to merge with the lines of the magic circle, obscuring it, spreading outwards…

"Then by your word and your vow," Seth finished, taking the knife from Raven's throat, "may your mortal flesh be cast to the fires of sin and despair to save her. May this charm protect her from further harm, and may your selfless death not have been in vain…"

His smile was quite possibly but the most terrifying thing Robin had ever seen.

"…Let the prophecy finally be fulfilled."

**TT**

Oh, yes. Another utterly _vile_ cliff-hanger. Because I'm just awesome like that.

You have to remember, before you threaten to lynch me for these cliff-hangers in your reviews, that these "chapters" are broken-up segments of long chapters. For example, the previous four chapters were all part of one big chapter, entitled "Child of Shadows". This is actually the beginning of Chapter 7.

Of course, I do especially _pick_ my cut-offs so that there IS a cliff-hanger…

Because I'm just awesome like that.

ALSO: New art up on DA! An "illustration" from this chapter, and a pic of Raven in her dress from this chapter. She's pregnant in both pics. Whoo. Link is over on my profile, as always.

AND: The amazingly talented **Worren** over at DeviantART made for me an AWESOME banner to advertise the very trilogy you are reading right now! If you'd like to take a look at it, you can cruise on over to my profile, where you'll find a link to a forum post (for Author Idol, actually). You can witness "Simon" ripping into me, actually. Uh, you might need to trawl down to page 6. also you can see the rocking avatar Worren also made for me!

Anyways…

RobinRocks xXx


	23. Clash of the Titans

First of all, it has been too long since I updated! Stupid ff. net was down again where alerts are concerned… Are we even really _surprised_ at this point…?

Secondly, the Round 2 deadline for _Author Idol_ was up on Thursday, so judging will be soon. O.o I am worried! Two people dropped out so they had to cut the competition by one round – making it so that FOUR people will dropped this time around instead of only two. Thankyou to everyone for your kind words so far – it means a lot to me! I don't know how far I will get, though… My Round One entry, a _Teen Titans_ one-shot called _Jillionaire_, is kicking around on my profile somewhere (thanks to everyone who checked it out). Unfortunately I can't post up my Round Two entry, _Adéle_, since it is original fiction. Our task was to create an OC that the judges could give two figs about. We couldn't use already-created OCs, and I decided to steer clear of the _Teen Titans_ OC genre since, while Seth and especially Jonathon Vaughan proved to be reasonably popular with you guys, they are also technically Mary Sues, according to their litmus test scores. So I wrote something original. I am quite pleased with it, but… well, there is some tough competition over at TGN.

Oh, and… it's a misnomer title. It's not about a girl called Adéle. It's about a man called John. Go figure.

Thankyou to: **LoopyLouise123** (yes, you should definitely be worried for Robin. And Raven too…); **YamiTai** (yes, I am mean. This chapter, just for you: Terra and Roy, and a mention of someone you like…); **Someone** (yes, Robin! You heard Someone! Don't die, do you hear?); **Guardian of Azarath** (no, Guardian! No lynching! Excellent theory, BTW…); **KGDiva** (I am soooo glad you liked that scene with baby Robin, because I loved writing it. It was such a refreshing break…); **Quinn and His Quill** (you're right, Robin should have just done that. But he's noble and heroic, so he didn't. AND WE DO NOT LOOK LIKE _TOTALLY SPIES_!); **Dark Austral **(yes, wanting Robin to listen to Slade. What _is_ the world coming to?); **Me** (aww, you're no fun…); **Kami-Elf** (hey, uh… You're bleeding all over the web browser, dude… Oh, and… I have so many things in store…); **TheFallenAngel67** (I am glad I haven't lost a reader because I like your reviews! Just don't get _too_ emotional!); **CrazyInsomniac** (while axing Seth to bits is a good idea, don't worry… There are plenty of others here to kick his ass! Actually, there ARE some inconsistencies, created by the fact that there are actually two similar-but-non-linear versions of _Black Magic_/_Remember the Titans_, but so far, no-one has noticed…); **Simmie** (don't worry, you'll get yours answers soo enough…); and **Athena's Wings** (yes, I am evil. Feel my evilness. I am noticing a pattern in these reviews here… O.o Right, and I am going to be honest,. And I should have know this, being British and all, but… I didn't know Shakespeare _had_ a brother. I know he had three kids and a wife called Anne Hathaway (_what_ a coincidence…), but I didn't know he had a brother, least of all one called Richard…).

Narroch, you didn't review, so you didn't get a reply. That's how it works. Suck it up, pal.

And the most cliché title I have come up with yet…

Clash of the Titans

"_When the very Earth itself bleeds; _

_When vows and promises are broken; _

_When apprentice shall turn on master;_

_When such love is the cause, and promise, of a sacrifice for another;_

_When Said Duplicate Souls are merged with a power beyond a mortal capability;_

_Only then shall the power within be unleashed, bore by its rightful owner;_

_Only then shall tyranny reign once more…"_

**TT**

"What are we… gonna do?" Arsenal panted, groaning as he clutched at his badly-wounded shoulder. "There's… so _many_…"

Terra backed up against him, pushing back her hair. She too was badly wounded in places, but even with the endless reams of robots closing in on them, they refused to back down.

"Better to die on your feet than to live on your knees," Terra replied savagely.

"Keep fighting, then?"

"Yes." Terra's power began to rage through her once again. "_Keep_ _fighting_."

"Admirable words, Ms Markov."

It was a voice neither of them recognised; Terra, hearing a hiss and crackle behind her (the sound of robotic minions dying), turned sharply towards the source of the voice.

It was a man – young, dark-haired, dressed in flowing crimson – with a small army.

Even as Slade's robots began to close in, making up for the hole this powerful young man had torn in their defences, Terra and Arsenal stared him down.

"Who are you?" Terra asked him carefully.

"And what are you doing here?" Arsenal added, not lowering his bow.

He offered them a grim little smile, his indigo eyes burning.

"I am Marcus Vandiver, Head of the Azarathian Senate," he replied calmly, "and I am here for the same reason _you_ are…"

**TT**

"_Then by your word and your vow," Seth finished, taking the knife from Raven's throat, "may your mortal flesh be cast to the fires of sin and despair to save her. May this charm protect her from further harm, and may your selfless death not have been in vain… Let the prophecy be fulfilled…"_

Seth Elliott's eyes faded back to their regular green as he finished speaking, and as he did so a ripple of magic seemed to spread across the entire circumference of the powder circle. The blood lines widened, joining together, being flooded…

…Until Robin found himself standing in a vast, perfect circle of blood. For a few painful seconds nothing happened…

Terrible spectral creatures suddenly burst from the blood, implying that it had suddenly become a… _portal_… They were demons, certainly, slimy and drenched in blood, and there were hundreds of them, swarming to the surface of the lake of blood, clawing and scratching at his bare legs…

"Oh, perhaps I forgot to mention?..." Seth sounded innocent as he spoke. "This is the part where you are dragged below the surface of the mortal realm and devoured alive by demons. Knew I'd forgotten to mention _something_…"

Panic exploded within Robin's mind and he tried to tear them away, kicking at them despite his weakened condition. Blood splashed up his body, and that only made them grab at him more. Blood was what they wanted, and they were being attracted to his bare wrists too like magnets to an iron bar.

Ripping at the "A" magically carved there.

He hadn't realised but he was up to his knees already; they were slowly but surely dragging him to his impending death below the surface of this portal. He did not know what lay beyond, nor did he wish remotely to, but they were dragging him under, scratching deep gashes into his bare legs, climbing up him, going for his bleeding wrists…

"ROBIN!" Raven screamed, watching in despair as he was pulled to his death by those demons. She struggled wildly in Seth's grip but he was far too strong for her. She opened her mouth to summon her powers and he slapped a hand over her mouth again, silencing her.

"I don't think so, my little bride," he whispered, smiling. "Soon my powers will be returned to me, and then you and I shall wed and rule Azarath together, and then, when the time comes, you shall give birth to our child. You will soon have no memory at all of that wretched mortal boy, Raven, once you have tasted the life that _I_ will give to you as my wife and queen."

Raven refused to look at him, her gaze still fixed on Robin.

Up to his waist, Robin knew that he was done for. But it did not keep him from fighting, even though he was getting weaker by the second. He had demons clinging to each of his wrists, making the wounds deeper, drinking from him; the others grasped at his red tunic and cape, pulling him under further. There was blood splashed all up his face, plastering his hair to his forehead, in his mouth, causing him to choke…

Seth patted Raven's swollen stomach lovingly.

"He did it for _you_," he whispered. He laughed. "A mere mortal, sacrificing himself for Trigon's daughter; offering himself to be devoured by _demons_ for the _daughter_ of one…"

Still gagged, Raven turned her face to him; four eyes blazed as red as the blood all over Robin as he was dragged to his death.

Seth only laughed still.

"Control that dark side, Ms Roth," he said calmly, "lest you bring about an _end_ far greater than any even _I_ can muster…"

Robin took a deep gasp of air as the demons forced him under. Only one hand – from the elbow down – was still above the opening of the portal.

Still in the mortal realm.

In icy horror, Raven recalled seeing this in the vision Robin had had during his demonic possession, back in Azarath. A lake of blood, and a single bloody hand disappearing beneath the surface of it…

Around him, the portal began to close, the circle tightening, drawing in, ready to close up on him forever—

The doorway to the room was suddenly smashed in, the entire wall exploding outwards by the force of it.

Through the wreckage came Marcus Vandiver, Head of the Azarathian Senate, flanked at either side by Arsenal and Terra.

Behind them was the rest of the Azarathian Senate. With the exceptions of Jonathon Vaughan (murdered), Raven's mother, Arella Roth (powerless, as "mortal" as Robin or Slade), and the _mysterious_ Cordelia Silver, they were all there.

Marcus Vandiver.

Aurora Mariotte.

Sarah de Marçon.

Michael Shelly.

Emma Tomasi.

Calica White.

Lawrence Westten.

Catriona Darke.

James Sinclair.

Zachariah Warrix.

All of them; white, their eyes blazing with a common power not unlike Seth's own.

Terra's eyes too blazed gold still from where she had unleashed her power on the wall.

Arsenal held an explosive arrow taut in his bow, his masked eyes narrowed; both of them had been impeccably healed by Marcus.

The good guys.

The gods.

The _Titans_…

Marcus Vandiver stepped forwards and gave a tiny, complicated flick of his fingers.

Fifteen feet away, Seth Elliott was thrown backwards, being torn away from Raven. The pregnant girl steadied herself and darted forwards faster than seemed possible.

_She_ was not mortal.

She smashed through the human-proof energy wall and grasped Robin's hand – now only from the wrist – stopping him from being completely dragged under. She could feel the demons hauling at him, feel him struggling beneath the surface of the portal, and stood, heaving at his hand.

Little by little the portal began to be forced wider again, and Raven put every ounce of her strength into pulling Robin back out of it. However, the demons below it weren't taking no for an answer, and they pulled back at him – he was their next meal, after all – forcing Raven to her knees. Tears streaming down her face, she could feel her grip on him slipping; the blood was making him very hard to hold on to…

His hand slipped through her fingers—

-To be caught firmly by a slim, leather-gloved hand. Startled, Raven looked up to find a fifteen-year-older Terra – blonde waves cascading down her back and around her beautiful, thirty-one-year-old face – leaning over her. Although the presence of the other – and the way they each looked – ignited a million questions within each of them, Raven read the message within Terra's pale blue eyes and gripped hold of Robin again. Together the two females pulled at him again, until finally the portal burst open again and he was bequeathed to them in a torrent of blood as though he had been pushed from the womb.

Behind him, the portal closed entirely and vanished from existence, taking with it no sacrifice.

Covered in blood too, Terra and Raven lay Robin back; he was near unconscious, having gone without air for a long time, and also having lost a lot of blood.

Raven burst into tears, half though relief that she had gotten him out again, and half through despair that he might die anyway.

"Oh, hey, _hey!_" Terra seemed alarmed by Raven's reaction. "What's up with you? Come to think of it, why are you even _here?_ Robin said you were _dead!_"

Raven gasped, stemming her sobs, just as Arsenal, followed by the now-freed Slade, joined them.

"Guys, what's…?" Arsenal trailed off as he saw the blood all over the place, then saw Robin. "Jeez, _bloodbath_," he quipped. "And I mean _literally_."

His gaze was on Robin; the boy was utterly drenched in blood, having been submerged in it. There was not one part of him or his clothes that was not dyed crimson by the liquid.

"He needs medical attention," Slade put in from the back, his voice hard as diamonds. "His wrists have been cut. I'm sure that none of you need for me to inform you how lethal that can be if not seen to immediately."

Terra looked at Slade briefly and then averted her eyes with a small, prominent shiver; then looked at Raven again.

"Well, you're the magical healer, if I remember correctly," she said, her voice not without bitterness. "Heal him up already."

Raven shook her head, choking back more sobs.

"I cannot save him now," she whispered. "He's already lost too much blood…"

"Then what-?" Arsenal started.

He cut himself off abruptly as senators Michael Shelley and Catriona Darke were thrown past them, scraping to a halt a few feet behind them.

Seth Elliott was approaching the small group of "mortals", his eyes blazing.

Behind him, the rest of the senators were sprawled out all over the room, out for the count.

"C'mon, you bastard," Arsenal muttered to Slade, raising his bow again. "Let's do this…"

The two masked men both darted forwards at Seth, Arsenal stopping short and firing an arrow right into Seth's heart. Seth didn't even flinch, instead grabbing Slade by the throat as he came at him from the left. Arsenal made the mistake of running at him and he grasped him too, holding the two fully-grown men aloft with inhuman strength. He threw Arsenal to join Michael and Catriona, turning his blazing eyes on Slade.

He smiled twistedly, the arrow still sticking out of his heart. He looked down at it, then looked back at Slade.

"_I'm already dead_," he whispered. His smile twisted more. "But not for long…"

His hand glowed a transparent blue and he plunged it right into Slade's chest, searching within him…

Slade went rigid in his grip as Seth found what he was looking for; then fell limp like a broken puppet as Seth pulled back out, taking with him a wisp of transparent energy, an ever-so-slight red tinge to it.

Seth threw Slade to the floor, where he collapsed in a heap and didn't so much as twitch. He wasn't dead, but he might as well have been.

Seth laughed wildly, holding Slade's struggling soul aloft. He forced it into the stone pendant at his neck, sealing it there as it tried to escape, to flee back to its flesh-and-blood counterpart.

"_One down_…" he whispered, turning back to the others; Terra, Raven and Arsenal – limping slightly – were clustered protectively around Robin, who was slowly but surely bleeding to death on the floor behind them.

Terra and Raven's eyes and hands were glowing.

Arsenal had his bow pulled back once more, even though his first arrow was still sticking out of Seth's heart.

"Ah, the earth-mover and the archer," Seth mused, chuckling softly. "I was wondering when you would turn up… Still, it's not as though you can _stop_ me…" He tugged Arsenal's arrow from his chest and snapped it in half, throwing it aside.

Arsenal blinked, realising…

"You're the Master of Time…" he whispered.

Seth smiled.

"Of course," he drawled lazily. "And a whole host of other blasts from the past. The seer, for instance, or... Well, it didn't happen in _this_ time, but I _persuaded_ the Terra of Robin's time to help him out of his demonic predicament. Fully disguised, of course, as a fat, middle-aged guy in a tux hanging out in a jazz bar. Worked like a charm…"

"I don't know _who_ you are, pal," Terra spat in reply, "but let's see how you like having a boulder dropped on your skull…"

Stepping forwards, Terra's blue eyes blazed gold; a crack spread like a ripple across the far wall as a massive chunk of concrete loosened itself. With a flick of her hand and a high-pitched cry, the earth-mover threw the mass straight at Seth—

He gave a lazy flick of his fingers and it exploded into shimmering dust, falling to the dark ground. Terra gave a strangled squeak, staring at the glittering powder that had once been a lump of solid concrete.

Even as she gaped at it in disbelief, Raven stepped forwards;

"_Azarath Metrion Zin_-"

Seth snapped his fingers and black tape materialised over Raven's mouth, silencing her. Startled by it, the pregnant girl stumbled and tripped over Robin, landing on top of him.

Seth closed in on them, his hand glowing blue again. He cut an arcing movement through the air, materialising a blue blade of energy that he sent right at them—

At the forefront, Terra and Arsenal flinched, attempting to block—

With a sound like diamond scraping across glass, the blade was deflected by an invisible wall, soaring up into the rafters. With much screeching and flapping, the bats that had begun to roost up there took flight again, unsettling and flitting everywhere. Seth looked up at them briefly, before turning sharply back to see how his attack had been blocked…

Marcus Vandiver decked him, sending him staggering backwards.

Knowing he had bought precious little time at all, Marcus whipped around to face the "mortals". His dark brown hair, usually neat, was messy from where he had previously been scrapping with Seth, there was a tear in the front of his crimson robes, and blood was trickling down his chin.

He bent down, pushing Terra, Arsenal and Raven aside to get at Robin. He ran his fingertips over Robin's slit wrists, healing them, replenishing his blood supply as he did so. The "A" did not heal, but remained there, as fresh as it had been the day he had gotten it. Ignoring it and standing up, Marcus waved his hand vaguely over the boy, dissolving the blood all over him into nothing.

Raven watched him intently; there was a sudden real, serious, almost _frightening_ coldness about the way he was dealing with this situation; as though it was not his empathic compassion that was driving him, as was usual in Azarathians, but something _else_.

Rage. Sorrow. Perhaps even a thirst for _revenge_…

Turning again, the senator caught Seth's arm as the other man attempted to strike his throat, kicking him backwards by a blow to his gut.

"Do _not_ let Seth near that boy," Marcus said flatly over his shoulder. "If he gets his soul, it could all be over…"

"But the sacrifice wasn't completed!" Raven cried, kneeling next to Robin, who was beginning to come round. "We got him back out of the portal! Even if Seth _does_ get his soul, it won't-"

"Robin offered his life to spare yours," Marcus interrupted, turning to her. "He was willing to die for you. That might have been enough to fulfil the prophecy. We can't take the chance that it _wasn't_, and now that he already has Slade's soul, we simply _cannot_ allow him to take Robin's too."

"We'll protect him," Terra vowed.

Marcus smiled thinly.

"I very much doubt that, Ms Markov," he replied softly.

His robes whipping behind him, he lunged at Seth again, and the Head senator and ex-Head Senator faced off once again.

"Jeez, are they _all_ as charming as that?" Terra mused sarcastically, watching Marcus and Seth clashing, their incredible powers bouncing off one another's deflective manoeuvres.

She looked at Arsenal, who shrugged.

On the floor, Robin sat up, his hand at his forehead. He was startled when Raven threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh, god, you're _alive_…" She kissed his forehead, then buried her face in his shoulder.

"Okay, _that's_ weird," Terra commented, folding her arms. "Seeing Raven showing that much emotion, I mean. And towards _you_, Robin, of _all_ people."

Robin shot her a death glare and got to his feet, helping Raven.

Both Terra and Arsenal's eyes widened as they saw them both properly, standing next to each other.

Robin's neat hair and skimpy, too-young uniform.

Raven's immensely-swollen stomach, accentuated by the tight, glowing fabric of her crimson gown.

"Don't go appearing together dressed like that on the cover of _TIME_, guys," Arsenal said weakly. "Somehow, I don't think it would be very well received…"

Terra's eyes were on Raven's abdomen.

"Jeez, Rob, you sure knocked her up _good_," she mused, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. "What the hell did you _put_ into her?"

Robin paused, his gaze flickering in Raven's direction.

Looking at her stomach.

"A monster," he replied finally.

Truthfully.

Arsenal and Terra both did a double-take.

"A… _what?_" Terra was stunned, not sure if she had heard him right.

"You heard me." Robin didn't smile. "It… it isn't mine."

He bent down and retrieved his discarded gloves as the two of them gaped at him all over again. Pulling them on (covering the "A"), he looked up at them again. Raven was clutching at his cape, the way Starfire often did when she was afraid and happened to be "conveniently" standing next to him.

"But… but if you…" Terra floundered. "You just said you… if _you_ didn't, then…"

"Whose _is_ it then?" Arsenal bit out, looking from Robin to Raven and then back again.

As though he was suddenly disgusted by the pair of them; as though he suddenly saw Robin as one of those irresponsible boys ridden with imbalanced hormones, but never with a condom in his jeans pocket; as though he suddenly saw Raven as a whore; as though he suddenly saw them both as just another couple of teenagers who had gotten drunk one night and been very stupid about it.

And it really wasn't anything like that at all.

"It's Seth's," Robin replied heavily.

Terra and Arsenal exchanged looks.

"_Seth?_" They repeated together.

Robin nodded in the direction of the fray between Seth and Marcus.

"Guy with the black hair. The one that just attempted to kill us…"

Terra blinked, staring at Raven.

At her stomach.

"Jeez, you actually…?" She trailed off, seeming disgusted.

"No, no!" Robin said sharply, stepping in front of Raven. "It wasn't… he did something to me, made it so that _I_ would impregnate her with _his_ child… I don't know how he managed it, but that's what happened. Ray and I got the kicks, but it came with strings." He sighed heavily. "I impregnated her with a monster."

"So what's the lesson here?" Arsenal put in, sounding bored. "_Use_. _Contraception_."

Robin smiled thinly.

"It's not that simple…"

An idea suddenly taking hold within his mind, he whipped back around to the direction of the fight between Marcus and Seth. One by one, the other senators were also getting to their feet.

"…But _beating_ him might be," Robin finished in an excited whisper.

Raven gripped his wrists and he looked at her.

"You have an idea?"

Robin looked back at Seth again.

He smirked.

"An inkling," he replied. He turned to Terra, his blue eyes glittering with intelligence and excitement behind his mask. "Terra, the Orb of Azarath holds his power. I need you to-"

"Hold up," Terra interrupted. "It holds _his_ power? I thought… What about all that other crap about the Avenger and the mortal gods and the power of the apocalypse?"

Robin sighed, forgetting that she didn't know.

"It was all a lie," he said quickly. "Seth made it all up because he needed me and Slade for _another_ prophecy."

He noted the confused look on her pretty face and shook his head.

"Look, don't worry about that," he instructed. "If we survive, I'll explain it later. In basic terms, the power within that orb is actually his own. With it is almost all of his soul; when Arella tore his powers from him, she killed him, in effect. I think that it being sealed away is the only thing actually keeping him "alive"; in full, in order to "live" again, he needs that power back. _So_…"

"…If you _break_ the orb…" Raven put in, her voice hushed.

"…He should die altogether," Arsenal finished. He nodded in approval. "Right, good plan, Robin. But where does that leave us all? Where _is_ this orb?"

"Seth has it," Robin replied vaguely. He turned to Terra again. "Which is where _you_ come in, Terra. The orb is made of some kind of stone; you should be able to summon it to you with your powers, right?"

Terra nodded, smiling.

"Right," she confirmed. "An excellent plan, Boy Wonder."

Perhaps it was an effect of her pregnancy, but Raven threw her arms around him again.

"I _knew_ you'd think of something," she whispered. "Now I know _why_ they call you the "Boy Wonder"…"

"Well, it's not just because I make great French toast," Robin quipped; but his heart wasn't in the joke.

Watching Terra's eyes become aflame with her dangerous power, he could only hope he lived up to his title…

—

Rolling with the blow Seth had just dealt him, Marcus Vandiver got to his feet, already muttering an incantation under his breath, focusing the energy on Seth. The newly-appointed Head Senator was indeed far more powerful than he first appeared, but even so – and with only a quarter of his power – Seth was holding his own.

_Beating_ him, even.

Which made Marcus more furious than he had ever been in his life before; because he _hated_ Seth. He hated him with everything within his very being. He hated him for his lies, he hated him for his evil deeds, he hated him for defying Azar's way, he hated him for the way he had used Robin and Raven and Slade.

He _hated_ him for murdering Jonathon.

Finishing his spell on a high-pitched note, the magic exploded from his fingertips, spiralling straight at Seth. His eyes blazing, Seth threw up a barrier, deflecting it back. Marcus swept beneath it, another spell already on his lips. He traced Azarathian lettering through the air, and the shapes glowed there for moments after he had moved his fingers. Air became solid, and Marcus gripped the sword as he drew it from nothing. It glittered with white magic, the hilt engraved with Azarathian lettering, more spells and enchantments. He twisted the sword over in his grip and sliced it at Seth's midsection, a glow marking the arcing movement it had cut through the air.

It was a technique he and Jonathon had shared; one that _Jonathon_ had already tried against Seth, and now Marcus was going to try it too…

Seth put up another barrier, sidestepping as he did so. The blade clashed against it and couldn't move any further.

Seth snorted with laughter.

" _A_ _sword? _" He mocked, speaking in his native Azarathian tongue. " _Please, Marcus. I know you're a sad little rulebook-basher, but allow me to give you __**some**__ credit… Jonathon tried that one the night I killed him, and it didn't work then either. _"

" _Believe it or not, Seth,_" Marcus whispered, his reply also in his mother-tongue, "_Jonathon did not hate you as much as __**I**__ do. You __**will**__ pay for everything you've done. _"

"_ And who is going to make me pay? _"Seth crooned, as the two circled each other. "_**You**__? You expect me to believe that you will defeat me, after I have led you along all this time? Don't make me __**laugh.**__. _"

His shape melted even as his emerald gaze did not shift from Marcus's visage; his form became slender, feminine…

But Marcus only offered "Cordelia Silver" a vague, odd little smile.

"_ I know, Seth. Here is where you can give me my 'little credit'… _"

"Cordelia" smiled.

"_ Why, certainly, Marcus… _"

"She" sent a forcefield of pure energy straight at the new Head Senator, throwing him backwards. Marcus lost his grip on the sword as he was sent sprawling, and Seth plucked it from the air, turning it over his hands and gripping it as his form faded back to that of his own.

Shaking his head, Marcus sat up a little…

…Just in time to see the point of the sword coming straight at his face. With no time to block, he flinched—

-And the blade never did sink into his skull. Opening his eyes, he found Lawrence Westten was standing over him, the blade caught flat between his palms. Before Seth could pull back, Lawrence pushed the blow upwards, knocking the hilt into Seth's face. Seth dropped the sword, backing away with his hands at his mouth. Blood trickled between his pale fingers.

The other senators joining them, Lawrence helped Marcus to his feet and they all closed in on Seth again.

Seth smirked, wiping his lip.

Until the Orb of Azarath suddenly burst through the silk pocket of his black robe, a golden glow surrounding it. Distracted from the Senate, Seth whipped around just in time to see the orb rocket into Terra's outstretched hand.

The glow faded from her eyes and she smiled prettily.

A Reese Witherspoon smile.

Even as Seth screeched something in Azarathian and started for her, the Senate swarming after him, she tossed it neatly to Arsenal, who caught it lazily in one slack hand.

"Oh, hey, I _know_ this game," he drawled as Seth turned his attention to him. "This is the one where you torment the fat kid in the hall by stealing his brown paper lunch bag and tossing it about over his head until he cries." He smiled sunnily. "Always one of my personal favourites."

"Give me the orb, mortal," Seth hissed, effortlessly backhanding Marcus and flooring him as he swept behind him. Snapping his fingers, the rest of the Senate suddenly fell slack; under his spell.

Despite paling a little at seeing how easily Seth had temporarily disposed of Marcus and the others, Arsenal grinned.

"What, _this_ old thing?" He asked innocently, holding the orb up; it glittered in his fingers, catching the light.

"Yes," Seth murmured, his eyes taking on a murderous glint as he closed in on Arsenal. "You don't know of its potential…"

"That's where you're _wrong_, pal," Arsenal corrected him chirpily. "I _do_ know what it's capable of, and that's why I think you won't be getting it back. Consider it _confiscated_, young man."

Seth pounced at him—

"Hey, Robin!" Arsenal called across the room. "Go long!"

He threw it, sending it arcing over the heads of all who stood clustered there, right into Robin's outstretched hands.

"Safe!" Robin whooped, holding it aloft as though it was a baseball.

Seth froze, as did the entire Azarathian Senate; then whipped around, his robes still moving long after he was still, his green eyes blazing white as his gaze settled on Robin.

He smiled.

"You are weak, Richard Grayson," he said, his voice almost hypnotic. "You will give me the orb, and then you will give me your soul. Come here now, there's a good boy…"

Confusion overwhelming his senses, Robin lowered his arm. Somehow, he was losing control…

"_Come here, boy_…" Seth hissed.

He attempted to take a step forwards and suddenly found himself enveloped in blackness. His mind became clear again, although he could hear nothing, and could _see_ nothing.

"_Robin_…"

Raven's voice.

But she was not next to him. She was…

…In his _mind?…_

"I have taken you into my Soul Self," Raven's voice explained. "You need to relax. He's trying to control your mind; this is the only way I could prevent it. When I let you go, you _must not_ listen to him. Smash the orb, Robin; _don't_ give it to him."

Floundering in darkness, Robin nodded, vaguely aware of the orb still in his hand.

"Do you hear me, Robin?"

"Yes."

"Good…"

The darkness drew back and he found himself on his knees back in the tiny room. His knees were weak but he got to his feet, his gaze defiantly meeting Seth's.

He raised his hand above his head. He felt Raven's hand on his shoulder.

"Give me the orb, boy," Seth ordered again.

Although he could again feel his consciousness clouding, being subjected to Seth's will, still he kept his eyes locked with the ex-Head Senator's.

"_No_."

Firm. Unswaying. Final.

Before Seth could get him any further under his spell, Robin threw the orb at the concrete floor with all of his strength.

It didn't merely smash.

It _exploded_.

Seth screamed in despair.

Becoming encompassed within her own dark energy again, Raven drew Robin in with her and sank them both below the surface of the concrete floor, protecting them.

Arsenal flung himself at Terra, bringing them both to the floor. She brought up a barrier of rock in front of them and he lay on top of her, his arms and head over hers.

The Senators, with Seth's distraction, all snapped out of their trances and threw up barriers against the blast, Marcus already on the floor.

Soulless, Slade did not react at all.

**TT**

Oho, and you thought _last_ chapter's cliff-hanger was bad…?

Ka ka ka.

I had little "v" chevron thingies at the beginning and end of the italicized translated Azarathian between Seth and Marcus, but I think ff. net ate them… I am sorry.

Also, contrary to popular belief… _Remember the Titans_ is **not** ending soon! Despite the fact that I have put in my big showdown now, which typically should be at the end, _RTT_ is not nearly over!

So keep reading, keep reviewing, and keep enjoying!

RobinRocks xXx

P.S: Yay for Reese Witherspoon!


	24. Below the Belt

Oh, Author Idol. When will the torment end? When I last left you concerning _Remember the Titans_, I was awaiting the judging on Round Two. I _did_ get through Round Two with _Adéle_; I also managed to get through Round Three, which… was tough, to say the least. I only _barely_ got through. Actually, to put it in layman terms, my Round Three entry got ripped to bits by all three judges, but I still got through because nobody else really managed to hit the mark either.

What was Round Three? Write a humour piece, 400-600 words. The catch? Limited dialogue tags. So basically… no separate sentences apart from those attached to speech. Which meant, effectively, that you were writing a script. And it's not as easy as you'd think. Mine died a gruesome death – so did most of the others. I have posted it up (it's called _Punish Not My Evil Son_) and, uh… well, you can see how funny you find it. I admit it to not being comedy gold, and it fell _seriously_ flat with "Simon", "Randy" and "Paula"… But, eh. It's up, anyway.

Round Four… ugh. Somebody kill me now… 500-800 word piece. Second person. **NO** adverbs. _No adverbs_. NO ADVERBS.

Rawr…

I'll keep you posted… :(

Thankyou to: **Quinn and His Quill **(stop asking questions, you…); **Dark Austral **(it's a dang shame that the judges didn't find my Author Idol entry as funny as you and a few others found that Arsenal line…); **Someone **(no, this story is not almost done! There's still so much to re-equilibriumise… Seth, Slade, dead Titans, baby, that damn contraception issue…); **Ray1 **(one of my best chapters? Why thankye muchly!); **Athena's Wings **(Marcus gives Seth some hate in this chapter, but he doesn't use a, uh… giant paper shredder… I am looking forward greatly to this poster, BTW!); **LoopyLouise123 **(yup, Robin's always got someone to save his booty! And don't worry – I'll sort out all those loose ends for you, in one lovely big braid. With sparklies and beads, okay?); **YamiTai **(Marcus is back this chapter to dish out some punishment – there's also something special for you… although I am not sure if you will like it or not…); **CrazyInsomniac **(wow, a treat, huh…? Guess you wouldn't consider my pathetic Author Idol entry one of those…? O.o); **Guardian of Azarath** (hee hee, did you ever get around to updating your fic? And yeah, sure Marcus showed up to screw with Seth's plan; that's what good guys are for, right?); **Simmie** (see, the problem with you, Simmie m'dear, is that you notice too much… and I can never answer your questions!); **Me** (yeah, Slade lost his soul. Last chapter, actually. Go and check it out if you missed it. And another one who found that Arsenal line funny… the irony..,); **Narroch **(wait, I'm sorry, who are you again? I vaguely remember your name from a time a _very_ long time ago, when you reviewed… Thanks for joining us, you bum. :D JK, you know I love you. I'm not a leech, BTW. And I was 16 when I wrote this, not 14); and **TheFallenAngel67 **(yeah, I'm cruel. All my cliff-hangers are chosen _very_ carefully. Mwa ha ha. You think Marcus is eccentric? Hn. Maybe…)

Below the Belt

Waiting until the floor above them had stopped vibrating, Raven's bird-shaped empath emerged into the room again. Robin and Raven stepped from the shadow of it and looked around warily.

Where the Orb of Azarath had connected with the hard floor there was merely a splayed scorch-mark, glittering with a vague essence of the magic it had once harnessed.

Terra and Arsenal ventured up tentatively from behind their wall of rock.

Clustered together around Marcus Vandiver, the senators all looked around, lowering their barriers.

Of Seth, there was no sign whatsoever.

Raven embraced Robin tightly.

"You did it!" She cried. "You beat him!"

Her lips swept towards his and his heart sank…

Stopping her lips with his fingertips, he looked very hard at her.

"Raven," he said levelly, "do you love me?"

She hugged him tighter.

"More than anything else," she whispered.

Feeling sick, Robin prised her off.

"Then…" He took a deep breath and turned away. "…He's still here…"

He felt her grasp his arm and turned back to…

…_her_…

Seth Elliott grabbed him around the throat and threw him up against the wall, strangling him against it.

"You little _bastard_," he spat, relishing Robin's futile struggling. "You really thought that was going to _kill_ me, didn't you?" He didn't even smile as he heard Robin choking. "Do you realise what you've _done?!_"

Robin couldn't answer him, instead gasping for air, clawing at Seth's strong hand.

"No, I don't think so," Seth whispered. "Not now. You're going to die, Richard. Now that you've destroyed my powers, I have no other choice but to punish you dearly for it. And now that I no longer need your _soul_… Well, you're going to wish you'd never been _born_, circus boy…"

"Seth, let him _go!_" Raven screamed at him, lunging at him, her eyes doubled, flaming red.

Seth effortlessly caught her wrist and threw her backwards.

"Be still, my bride," he said softly to her. "Now that my powers and my prophecy are no more, you and our child are all that matter to me. Do not make me hurt you."

"_I'm not your bride!_" Raven shrieked, getting unsteadily to her feet again. "I'll _die_ before I'll give birth to your wretched spawn!"

"You're going the right way about it, let me tell you," Seth responded idly, throwing the near-unconscious Robin to the floor next to her. Raven knelt next to him, pulling him to her as he coughed and gasped for air; putting up a barrier as Seth suddenly struck out at her. The force from his blow ricocheted off, shorting out her wall of black energy, and she collapsed next to Robin, shaking her head as she propped herself up on her elbows.

Seth reached down for Robin again—

-And was sent flying as a pillar of rock smashed into him from the side, throwing him up against the wall. A hail of explosive arrows followed, and suddenly Terra and Arsenal were there, followed by the Senate.

All closing in on Seth once again.

Robin rolled over, coughing and massaging his throat.

"You okay?" Raven sat up, reaching for him.

"Fine…" He took a few deep breaths of air, as though he thought he could stock up for the next time somebody started strangling him.

She found her way into his grip once again, nuzzling against him for comfort. Tears leaked from her eyes.

"I really thought we'd done it…" she whispered, her voice catching.

"I-"

"Get up, both of you."

Robin and Raven looked up from where they were pathetically embracing one another to find Marcus Vandiver standing over them. When they didn't respond to his command, he reached down and hauled them both to their feet.

"You're both in danger now," he said before they could even open their mouths. "Robin; _you_ he wants to kill. It is, however, _Raven's_ welfare that concerns me more. That child within your womb is all he has left; it must be destroyed."

"Oh, _sure_," Raven spat. "I'll just go book an abortion right now, shall I?"

Marcus shook his head at her sarcasm, turning his attention back to Robin.

"Both of you must leave this place _now_," he pressed. "Robin, I want you to take Raven and go."

"Go _where?_" Robin asked desperately, wincing as an explosion sounded behind them.

"As far away from here as possible," Marcus replied, non-helpfully. "The rest of the Senate and I – with the help of your friends – will attempt to destroy him in his now-weakened state. It is, however, essential, that you two leave this place, in case we are unable to contain him."

Raven opened her mouth to fire off another argument, but Robin put his hand to her lips.

"Okay," he said softly. "We'll go…"

Marcus nodded tartly.

"We place her within your care, Richard Grayson," he said, his voice monotone. "Protect her with your mortal life; do not fail her. The birth of that child…"

Marcus shivered and turned away.

"Rest assured that it will not be a joyous occasion," he finished flatly.

"Marcus!" Raven called after him; he was still this cold, angry, terrifying version of himself, and she had to know… "You will defy Azar?"

"I must." He did not look at her. "For you. For Robin. For Azarath. For… for _Jonathon_. I _must_."

Without another word he sought to rejoin the rest of the Senate, his robes flowing behind him like liquid.

"He will kill him," Robin noted softly.

But Raven shook her head.

"Robin, I don't think he _can_. We _can't_ run away," she whispered, clutching at his cape. "There's no escaping him now…"

"What other choice do we have?" Robin took hold of her wrist, tugging at her. "I'm not letting him hurt you."

"He _won't_." Raven pulled against him. "Robin, it's _you_ he wants now."

"So you think I should just stand here and _let_ him kill me?" Robin challenged her.

"_No_, but…" Tears leaked from Raven's eyes once again. "Robin, I don't see what good _running_ will do…"

"We won't know until we try," Robin replied, pulling at her desperately. "You know I _hate_ running away, Raven. You _know_ I do. But we _have_ to try."

Still concocting more arguments, Raven let him drag her towards the kicked-in doorway of the room. He offered her a reassuring smile; his face set as he turned away from her again.

_And besides_, he mused grimly, _when have __**I**__ ever taken "No" for an answer?…_

—

"I can't see us beating this guy, T," Arsenal muttered as he and Terra came back to back, panting with the extraordinary effort it took to fight Seth.

"Maybe not _us_," Terra murmured in reply, shaking her hair back. "_These_ guys… _maybe_."

She went to dart forwards again and Arsenal caught her around her lithe waist, pulling her back to him.

"_Roy!_" Terra seethed, pushing against his chest. "What are you…?"

Blue met blue, his through his mask, hers half-obscured by her wave of gold hair.

He kissed her quickly, his lips pressing against hers for such a brief time she barely had time to widen her eyes before he pulled away again.

"In case we don't survive," he said, releasing her. He swept past her, leaving her standing there, one hand at her mouth.

"You aren't Beast Boy, Roy," she said softly, still not turning to him.

Arsenal froze for a few seconds.

"Neither was Dick," he said finally, not turning to her either.

They stood there, back to back, perhaps a metre between them, and silence bouncing across that metre-span.

Finally Arsenal broke it and walked away, sliding an arrow into his bowstring.

Terra whipped around, watching him go. Tears shone in her eyes.

_I guess he never really __**did**__ forgive me…_

—

"_This is all about Jonathon, isn't it?" _Seth mocked, taking a blow from Aurora Mariotte in a knife block, deflecting an attack from Zachariah Warrix with his other hand.

His gaze, however, was on Marcus; and his language, now that he was no longer threatening Robin and Raven, had slipped comfortably back into Azarathian.

"_Look at you all,_" he went on maliciously. "_All rallying to defend his honour. Jonathon was not __**worthy**__ of being a senator, let me tell you. Mind you…_" He grabbed James Sinclair by the front of his robes as the other senator came behind him, throwing him effortlessly to one side. "_…__**None**__ of you are. Azar knows the quality of the Senate had gone downhill…_"

He spun, grasping an entire handful of arrows from behind and crushing them in his grip. He sent a force of invisible energy at Arsenal, throwing him backwards into Terra, sending them both sprawling.

"_Even enlisting the help of humans,_" he spat, turning back to Marcus. "_And I thought you could sink no lower…_"

"_I could not ever sink as low as you, Seth…_" Marcus spat in reply.

"_Oh, is that so?_" Seth sneered. "_Despite my unsavoury motivations and methods, Marcus, I rather think that your repertoire of believing every lie I ever told you, rallying every filthy lower breed you can find to join you, and falling in __**love**__ with another senator, who was both an idiot and the same gender as you… Yes, I rather think that makes you lower than me, Marcus, whether you agree with me or not."_

Tight-lipped and furious, Marcus did not answer him, cutting a blade of green energy at him instead. Seth threw up a forcefield which then expanded at his command, seeming to explode outwards, slamming into all of the senators. They were each thrown backwards as they were hit by – seemingly – nothing.

His eyes blazing white, Seth stood alone in the middle of the room, waiting from them to get up. Sure enough, seconds later, Marcus was soaring at him again. Stepping backwards and rocking with the blow, Seth pushed Marcus' attack away, snapping a kick into the other man's solar plexus. Marcus staggered, but healed himself seconds later, driving the pain from the blow.

Unfazed, Seth knee-hauled Marcus in the crotch.

His indigo eyes wide, Marcus crumpled. On his hands and knees, sweat beaded on his forehead as he forced out the incantation through gritted teeth; Seth's shadow fell across him as he did so.

"_If you thought __**that**__ was below the belt,_" he quipped,"_how about this?_"

Marcus lifted his head, his eyes blazing; but the blaze in them faltered and faded when he found, not Seth Elliott towering over him, but…

…Jonathon Vaughan.

Except the hazel in his eyes had given way to pure, solid, glittering green.

"Jonathon" knelt, grasping Marcus by the front of his torn crimson robes and hauling him to his feet

"_Will you hit me or kiss me?_" He whispered mockingly in Jonathon's voice.

Marcus looked away, shaking a little; and perhaps with the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"_Neither,_" he said finally, his voice little more than a whisper. "_I'll __**kill**__ you…_"

He turned his face back to Seth; and with no other warning than his blazing-white eyes, his Soul-Self soared out of his body, and, as though solid, and electric even, barrelled right into "Jonathon", throwing him across the room with an explosive smoky collision.

"_Jonathon knew you were a liar!_" Marcus seethed as his Soul-Self joined back up with his solid body. "_Azar help me, I wish I had listened to him. But you murdered him for what he knew, Seth. You will not dishonour his memory as well._"

To pour salt in the wound, when Seth rose, he was still in Jonathon's form. A gash from the concrete on his cheek, the auburn hair in disarray, the emerald green cloak and black silk robes a little torn.

But he smirked, and basked in Marcus' anguished hatred.

"Azar damn you…" Marcus whispered in English.

—Already sensing her behind him, Seth whipped around, a shield already in place. Calica White's attack rebounded and she ducked beneath it, long dark hair flying. She swept a low kick into his gut, stepping backwards from it, her lips forming Azarathian spells, one after another. Her hair lifted and her eyes glowed white as white magic – so unlike Seth's – surrounded her, spiralling from her very form…

Seth lazily deflected it at the last minute, using her moment of weakness to grasp her arm, elbow her in the gut and throw her headlong to join Marcus halfway across the concrete floor. No sooner had he released his grip on her than he had Zachariah Warrix to contend with. The other senator slammed a kick into Seth's stomach, then uppercut him in the jaw before he could heal himself.

"_You can't beat us all, Seth,_" Zachariah murmured. "_Don't be a fool, and don't think that stealing Jonathon's form will make us go easy on you._"

Seth looked up, wiping his (Jonathon's) mouth.

"_It_ _would be wrong of me to allow you to continue to remain so deluded, Zach,_" he whispered maliciously. "_How about I clear matters up…?_"

He swept at the other man, but Zachariah expertly parried his blows, knocking them aside. Not panicked in the slightest, Seth suddenly whipped behind him, allowing James Sinclair – who had been sweeping to attack from the other side – to smash into him. Even as both senators were sent sprawling, Seth turned back to them, muttering an incantation. He gave a complicated flick of his wrist and bands of glowing gold – not unlike Wonder Woman's lasso – were summoned from his fingertips, enclosing around Zachariah and James and binding them together back to back. Even as they struggled on the concrete floor, their magic rebounding from the enchantment upon their bindings, Seth turned from them and kicked Michael Shelley aside; then spun, knocking back Catriona Darke with another of his forcefields. She staggered and collapsed, struggling to get up again.

He turned, smirking—

Emma Tomasi punched him full-on in the face. Looking up – and again wiping his bleeding mouth – he found Emma Tomasi and Sarah de Marçon, squaring off in front of him.

He laughed.

"_Ah, ladies,_" he mused dryly. "_This is the part where you slap me and say you never want to see me again, right?_"

"_No,_" Emma spat, correcting him. "_This is the part where we kill you._"

"_Oh._" Seth's arrogant smile, plastered across Jonathon's face, did not deteriorate. "_My mistake._"

Emma came at him but he grasped her wrist, twisting it painfully to one side. Even as she cried in pain, Sarah swept to the rescue, snapping a kick with her high heels right into Seth's crotch.

He let Emma go and doubled over, but when they made the mistake of coming too close he suddenly straightened up again, grasping both women by their throats.

"_Self-healing charm,_" he quipped brightly as he strangled them. "_Works like… well, a charm._"

He threw them in opposite directions with his inhuman strength.

"_Guess I won't be calling you for a second date,_" he said breezily.

He slammed Aurora Mariotte aside too and closed in on Lawrence Westten, the last one standing.

Lawrence appeared bored, but backed away warily even so as he gazed at the other man with hooded eyes.

"_If we could get this over with quickly,_" he sighed, magic glittering at his fingertips.

Seth threw him up against the far wall with sudden blast of luminous blue power.

"_Quick enough for you?_" He asked innocently as the senator slid down into a crumpled heap.

He sighed and lit himself up a cigarette, looking around for the next candidate to unleash his power onto. He still hadn't dropped Jonathon's form, despite the fact that he had hated the man enough to rip his heart right out of his chest.

He was looking for Robin. _How_ he was anticipating killing that boy…

His eyes widened as he looked around wildly; searching for Robin, searching for Raven…

He spun and found Marcus standing in front of him, an unusual smile on his serious face. His cigarette dropped from his limp fingers, smoke billowing.

Around them, the others were beginning to get up also.

Terra and Arsenal dragged themselves to their feet.

"_Where are they?!_" Seth demanded seethingly, his murderous green gaze piercing Marcus.

Marcus Vandiver's smile only broadened; and again, he spoke in English.

"Gone…"

Seth screamed furiously, and the power that exploded from his fake form of Jonathon Vaughan was such that only those such as the Azarathian Senate could withstand his wrath…

**TT**

_Sigh_…

Not much to say, really. It's a short chapter, but…

Robin and Raven are back next chapter. Yayz!

RobinRocks xXx


	25. Prophecy Girl

Noes! Reviewers! Where have you all gone? _Please_ come back! Last chapter had my lowest review count since Chapter 15… And we're so close too… O.o

Agh, _Author Idol_. I'm still in, battling away – we're now on Round 5, and boy, I thought Round **4** was nasty! _This_ time we have to write a 500-700 word piece describing a landscape, using… wait for it… the sense of taste. Yeah. WTF. My thoughts exactly…

Anyone interested, my Round 4 entry has been posted on here. The fandom is _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ (my first ever fic!), and is called _Alien vs Predator_. And speaking of _Buffy_, the title of this chapter, _Prophecy Girl_, is taken from a _Buffy_ Season One episode. :D

Oh, yes, and thankyou to all who read and reviewed my Round 3 entry! Much appreciated!

And speaking of thankyous: **YamiTai **(_noooooo_… this isn't what I promised you, my dear… But soon, okay? Hope you're a Levels went well, BTW! Mine are in a few weeks…); **LoopyLouise123 **(well, at least now I know you like beads! And don't worry about Robin… much); **Someone **(ugh, another of you who refuses to share your true pen-name… and don't forget the _baby_!); **Quinn and His Quill **(wait, you think _this_ is funny? O.o And gee, _thanks_ for the contractions rant – so now I have you _and_ Simon picking on me? And yes, Lawrence is a bum not worthy of being less blasé than this…); **Guardian of Azarath **(yes, that _would_ have been much funnier… although I guess maybe Marcus isn't very interested in being humorous right now, as you will see…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(aww, well, I am glad you think so!); **Athena's Wings **(yes, this fic isn't exactly _true_ RobinxRaven, but… there's a whole lot of interaction between them, so… it's almost there… and don't worry about hurrying the poster, I just wanna see what you do!); **Me **(yes, bah humbug! I agree! Bah humbug that you won't tell me your name!); **CrazyInsomniac** (I'm a madam, not a sir, sir/madam! Seth stole Slade's soul and right now the poor sucker still doesn't have it back…); **Simmie **(I hope your Drama exam went well! Eh, don't feel too sorry for Roy – he's a playa…); and **Poison's Ivy** (who hasn't been reviewing lately, but I know you're around here somewhere. I was hoping you'd been reading, BTW, since Raven is now back!).

And now, a spotlight on Raven, the one and only:

Prophecy Girl

"_Where are they?_"

Still he was in the manifested form of the dead Jonathon Vaughan; still he spoke in Azarathian – Seth Elliott was very angry, his jade eyes flaring and filled with a murderous lust as he straddled Marcus Vandiver, pinning him to the floor.

And choked the life out of him with hands that clutched with a steel grip around his throat.

The Head Senator's "army" was dealt with; Seth enjoyed playing with them too much to simply kill them, and so they were merely incarcerated, unconscious, but useless to their leader all the same.

Marcus struggled and gasped beneath him, unable to utter words in any kind of tongue; his own convulsing fingers attempting vainly to pry Seth's from his neck. He couldn't summon a spell to get him away; and he couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. The lack of air was sending him dizzy, making his mind whirl and blur and flash black and blinding white.

"_I'm sick to __**death**__ of you, Marcus!_" Seth hissed. "_Your death will bring me great pleasure, but… there is time enough for that. Right now, you're not my main priority. Now I'll ask you again. My bride. My child. That __**boy**__. Where. Are. They?_"

He loosened his grip a little as Marcus opened his mouth in a way that showed he was trying desperately to speak.

"_Well?_" He asked; and smirked with Jonathon's mouth.

But he was disappointed and angered only further still when Marcus said, threaded together in a single breathless gasp;

"_Azarathmetrionzinthos_…"

A blade of black energy, identical to that unleashed by Raven herself, made a fleeting appearance; but Marcus had no control over it, and it was gone again, only doing enough to knock Seth right off him.

Grimacing in agony, he rolled over, struggling to his knees. A few feet away, Seth, ever in Jonathon's stolen form, got up again; he was laughing.

"_Oho, Marcus, I didn't think you had it in you!_" He crowed. "_Aura Imprinting. My, my. I'm impressed_."

"_She'll… kill you_…" Marcus panted. "_Even an imprint of her power was enough to get you off me_…"

"_She has the power,_" Seth agreed cheerfully, "_but not the strength. She fears Trigon too much to… well, evil is a realm she is already half in, so she knows the consequences. No, Marcus, Raven will not kill me, although she most certainly __**could**__…_"

He kicked Marcus in the ribs; one or two cracked, and Marcus hacked up a mouthful of blood as he collapsed again onto his back.

"_You're obviously not going to help me, you fool_," Seth hissed down at him, placing a foot at his aching throat. "_So how about I send you to Hell with your beloved Jonathon…?_"

He raised his arms, as though conducting a murderous symphony, and twelve long, flat, glittering blades manifested themselves out of thin air; pointing straight downwards as they floated where they had been borne.

"_S-Seth_…" Marcus groaned, beyond throwing him off a second time; he knew there those blades were going…

"_Ah, and in this form_…" Seth ignored him, gesturing at himself, wearing Jonathon's visage, "_I can't tell you, Marcus, how much sweeter this will be…_"

His stolen smile twisted further still; and the blades dropped.

**TT**

"Robin, this is _pointless_…"

Ignoring her, Robin braced himself, spreading his weight, and kicked in yet another door. It toppled with the force of the blow and Robin ushered Raven through into yet another corridor.

One that looked the same as all the others they had just fled through.

"Robin, are you _listening_ to me?" Raven snapped, turning angrily to him.

"Nope."

Robin grabbed her wrist and pulled at her again, making her run with him. They couldn't go very fast, not with Raven in the condition she was in, but he was desperately hurrying her, half-dragging her behind him.

"Robin, we _can't_ escape him," Raven said for the fifth time, one hand at her stomach as she obediently ran as fast as she could alongside him.

"Not listening to you…" Robin didn't even look at her. There was another door up ahead, this one made of wood. As they neared it he released her and threw himself at it, taking the entire blow down his right side, his elbow tucked into his side. The lock broke and the door swung backwards, giving access to a rickety stairway that faded into total darkness.

Leading down.

_How far down does this place go?..._

It didn't make sense to him; they were _already_ underground.

Leaving her in the corridor, Robin went a little way down the steps, groping for a banister. He found one, but it shook when he put weight on it.

"Is it safe?" Raven hissed, coming to the doorway.

Looking up at her – highlighted in the lit doorframe – Robin frowned.

"I don't think so. But safety's not an issue anymore. It can be crawling with rats for all I care…"

He heard Raven utter a tiny squeak as he mentioned rats – in truth, the idea that it was swarming with rats did not appeal to _him_ either – and reached up, offering her his hand. She gingerly accepted it and he led her down the steps to where he was.

The door swung shut behind her. They were not locked in – how could they be, when he had busted the lock – but he felt Raven huddle closer to him as any light at all was suddenly snuffed out.

"I'll go down, make sure it's safe," Robin told her, prising her off from where she was clutching grim death around his thin neck.

"Don't leave me here!" Raven squealed, grabbing at him again.

Robin sighed as she clutched at him again, tighter than before.

"Raven, I can't… if you won't…"

"Please don't leave me here," Raven whimpered.

"Okay, okay… we'll go down together, alright?"

An effect of her pregnancy, he guessed; profuse clinginess. Heightened emotions, even though she was supposed to feel nothing at all.

It was like she had morphed into another Starfire.

Before melancholy could envelop him, he pushed all thoughts of Star and Cy and BB from his mind, slipping an arm around Raven's waist to give her some support. He reached for the rickety banister with his other hand, gripping it, feeling it shaking.

"Okay, I've got you," he whispered through the darkness. "Hold on to me, okay? I don't want you to fall…"

One of her arms slid around his back beneath his cape, while her other hand gripped at his glove.

"Ready?"

She nodded, although he couldn't see it. Taking her answer to be "Yes", he led her down the steps, feeling them quiver beneath their combined weight with every step.

On the very last couple of steps he accidentally trod on the hem of her dress; it caught, she stumbled, tripped and fell into him, knocking them both over. They landed in a dazed, tangled heap at the foot of the steps.

"_Ouch_…" Robin attempted to disentangle himself, pushing her cloak out of his face. "_Not_ good… Remember what happened _last_ time we got all tangled up like this?..."

He felt Raven stiffen… beneath him, or on top of him, or wherever she was.

"Yes," she replied finally. "You got me pregnant."

He felt her bump push against his chest as she spoke, as she tried to move.

"So I noticed," he replied dryly. He rolled off her, realising that he was the one on top, and got to his feet.

Raven too struggled to her feet – balancing was beginning to become difficult for her. She reached for him but her fingers came into contact with only musty air.

"Robin?" She backed up, her hands clasped together.

"Just looking for a light-switch," he called back.

He continued to grope along the wall, feeling with his fingertips for the distinctive shape of a switch. Eventually he came into contact with one and flipped it on, praying that it didn't blow out. A bare bulb came on, flickering several times before settling down to a dull glow. Dusty cobwebs hung from it like old party streamers.

"And there was light," he quipped, turning back to Raven.

Her mouth twitched a little, but she did not smile. He went back over to her, looking around as he did so. They were in a tiny cellar, deep underneath Wayne Enterprises. It was thick with dust and cobwebs, and piles of dusty cardboard boxes were stacked all over the room. The walls and floor were cement, damp patches spreading across the uneven grey surfaces, and the ceiling was simple white paint, cracked and yellowed with age and neglect. It looked about ready to cave in.

"Robin, I'm scared," Raven whispered, embracing him.

"I know…" He put his arms around her in return. "Me too. More than I've ever been. More than even the time I first saw Bruce in full Batman gear looming over me…"

"_That_ had to be pretty scary…"

"It was, believe me."

Raven buried her face in his chest.

"_I don't want him to hurt you_," she murmured. "And I don't want to marry him. I don't want to give birth to his child."

He did not answer. What answer was there to give? He might have been able to make great French toast, but he didn't have the answer to _everything_…

Least of all _this_.

He wanted to say it would be okay. That the Titans would pull through the way they always did.

But there _were_ no Titans now. Not anymore. He and Raven were the only ones left.

_And __**I**__ don't even have any powers_…

He felt frustration at that revelation now more than he ever had before. He knew that Raven was weak – projecting her Soul Self took a lot of her energy, and then she had taxed herself by protecting them both from the orb's explosion. If she had even been any kind of match for Seth before, she certainly wasn't now. And being pregnant didn't help either; _that_ much he was sure of…

She was weakened, defenceless and afraid.

And he knew that he could not protect her.

"I never should have brought you to Azarath," Raven murmured into his chest. "That's when all this started…"

"No." Robin shook his head. "No, Raven, this all started… what, seven hundred years ago? When Arella locked Seth's powers away instead of killing him…"

Raven sniffed.

"He's wrong…"

"Sorry?"

"Seth. He's wrong." Raven looked up at Robin, tears in her eyes. "Her name isn't Arella. Well, not really. It's _Azar_. Sometimes she is referred to as "Arella", because it means "Messenger Angel" in Azarathian. But our founding goddess is _Azar_. That's why Azarath is called what it is. My mother… _her_ name is Arella. Named after Azar, in effect. But Seth is wrong all the same, even when _his_ real name means "_Prophet_ of Azar"."

Robin snorted.

"He doesn't even know his mortal enemy's real name…"

"_You_ don't know _Slade's_ true identity," Raven pointed out.

"I…" Robin stared at her with his mouth open for a few moments, knowing he had contradicted himself.

"You're _defending_ him?" He asked stiffly after a while, composing himself again.

"No. Just putting _you_ back in your place."

"I'm _in_ my place, Raven." He released her and turned away, looking at the floor. "I know who I am. I'm the powerless one, the _useless_ one… I couldn't stop all this from happening, I couldn't save the others, and I can't save _you_."

"I didn't _ask_ you to. This is as much my fault as it is yours. If anything, Robin… _I_ should have saved _you_."

Robin wasn't listening. Still with his back to her, he buried his face in his gloved hands, shaking his head.

"I was stupid," he whispered. "I have this… _thing_ about Slade; I hate him so much it's an _obsession_, one spawned from the very fact that… _that I'm so like him_. And Seth played on it, used Slade as a pawn long before he revealed himself as the "seer" to him, all to reel _me_ in…"

He turned back to Raven in despair.

"_This is all my fault_," he said softly. "_All_ of it. This all happened because _I'm_ so… _selfish_. If I wasn't so obsessed about taking Slade down I wouldn't have gone to Arkham Asylum when he summoned me, and he wouldn't have _raped_ me, and then… well, _none_ of this would have happened!"

"Robin, _don't_ do this," Raven whispered, reaching for him. "Please don't do this to yourself. To _me_…"

He shrank back from her.

"_Look_ at you!" He burst out. "I've _already_ done _enough_ to you! I've impregnated you with a _monster!_ And it only happened because I was so easily possessed _because_… he raped me because I went to Arkham Asylum when I shouldn't have and I knew it was stupid but _hey!_ when do _I_ ever do anything sensible, _least_ of all when it involves Slade?!"

He stood facing her, his chest heaving, his fists clenched, his cowlicks stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"Why don't you ever _stop_ me?!" He yelled at her. "Why don't any of you ever tell me that I'm stupid, that I'm arrogant?! Why don't you ever threaten to lock me up in the basement?!"

Raven gazed at him sadly, her eyes brimming.

"Robin," she whispered, "we _do_. And you never listen."

He stopped, shocked, his gaze wide-eyed.

Knowing that she was right.

He _was_ stupid.

He _was_ arrogant.

He never _did_ listen.

"A failure," he whispered. "I'm an utter _failure_…"

"Stop it." Raven grasped his shoulders and shook him. "Stop it _now_, Robin."

"What difference does it make?" Robin asked her softly. "He's going to kill both of us."

"You." Raven squeezed his shoulders. "He won't kill his queen…"

Robin laughed wildly and grasped her wrist.

"You're not his _queen_, Raven!" He spat. "You're his goddamn _whore_. He'll kill _you_ as well as soon as he's done with you."

Raven wrenched her wrist from his grasp, staring at him.

"_What did you call me?_"

She was shocked, not least because his outfit made him look so much younger than he really was.

"I…" Calmer now, he ran a hand through his hair.

The way he always did when he got himself into these corners.

"I didn't mean that you _are_," he murmured. "_How_ can you be? _I'm_ the only one you've ever… What I _mean_ is that that's all _he_ sees you as. The vessel carrying his flesh and blood."

"Then that's all my mother was to Trigon," Raven replied stiffly. "A whore."

Robin gazed at her wearily.

"You believe he saw her as anything else?"

"I…" Now it was Raven's turn to be rendered speechless.

_She_ too knowing that _he_ was right.

She reached for him again and he allowed her back into his arms. She clung to him desperately.

"_What do you do when there's no hope?_" She whispered against his neck.

"Pray that Batman comes to rescue me."

"And when he doesn't?" She leaned back from him so that she could see his face.

Robin paused.

"Keep fighting. Keep hoping…"

She could feel it stirring within him again. The sense of leadership. The fighting spirit. The determination. The drive to win.

The Teen Titan truly within him.

"Robin, you're the _leader_ of the Teen Titans," she pushed. "If _you_ give up…"

"…Then all is lost," Robin finished jadedly. "And what if all _is_ lost? What if there _is_ no hope?"

"Then you keep fighting. You keep _hoping_, just like you said."

"I read that off the back of a cereal box."

"Cheerios?"

"Bad joke, Raven. You sure you're feeling okay?"

"Better than _you_, it would seem. And Beast Boy swears by cereal boxes for all of his information."

"I can't fight him." Robin sighed heavily. "Don't you _get_ it? I'm only… a _mortal_. I can't beat him; he'll _kill_ me, Raven. _Effortlessly_."

"I'm not telling you to _fight_ him," Raven sighed. "I'm telling you… not to give up…"

"You think he won't kill me if I act all "Mr Happy-Smiley Sidekick"?" Robin laughed bitterly.

Raven released him and turned away from him.

"You're hopeless, Robin," she said, folding her arms. "And I mean that _literally_."

"I don't understand what it is that you want me to _do_," Robin replied quietly.

She turned to him, silenced.

Leaning against him, she began to cry softly once again.

"_Neither do I_," she whispered.

"My, there's _precious_…"

Raven froze in Robin's grip. Whipping around, the Boy Wonder barely stifled his gasp of horror as he saw Seth Elliott standing halfway down the rickety steps, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Back in his true form; and utterly immaculate.

"_Robin_…" Raven squeaked his name under her breath, clinging to him, as Seth began to languidly descend the stairs.

Robin pushed Raven behind him, stepping backwards as he did so.

Seth laughed.

"You think you can protect her, boy?" He sneered. "Still, it isn't _her_ I'm after. It isn't her I'm going to _kill_…"

He swept towards them, his hands in the pockets of his shining black leather pants.

"The senators…" Raven whispered, floundering. "Marcus, he…"

"Dealt with, I'm afraid," Seth replied lazily. "Your little friends and all. And _Marcus_… don't get me _started_."

He snapped his fingers.

"Come here, Raven, my dear," he ordered.

Raven shook her head, twisting Robin's yellow cape in her fingers.

"_Now_, Raven!" Seth snapped, growing impatient.

Again Raven declined her head, half hiding behind Robin.

Angered, Seth started for her, only to have Robin block his path.

"She doesn't want to go with you," he said firmly, forcing himself to stop shaking as he spoke.

"I don't see anyone around to _stop_ me from taking her," Seth replied nastily.

Robin looked at the cigarette dangling from the corner of Seth's mouth.

"You shouldn't smoke, Seth," he said softly, stepping back slightly, shifting his weight…

Seth laughed.

"This again?" He laughed. "Go ahead, Boy Blunder; lecture me on the evils of smoking. Why shouldn't I do it?"

"Because it's bad for your health!" Robin yelled, snapping a sudden, lightning-fast split kick at Seth's jaw. His heel hit Seth squarely on the chin, snapping his head back. His cigarette went flying, landing some way away, smouldering.

Recoiling from the blow, Robin pushed Raven back again; his weight was rocked forwards on the balls of his feet, waiting… "Mortal martial arts" may have been nothing in comparison to Seth's power; but martial arts were martial arts.

They still hurt.

"That was my last one," Seth spat, straightening up again.

"Then I did you a favour," Robin replied tartly, sliding into a battle stance.

"Don't make me laugh, circus boy," Seth whispered. "Your knowledge of kung fu won't save you."

Robin slammed a reverse kick into Seth's gut, forcing him backwards a few paces.

"That was Taekwondo, actually," he corrected the ex-Head Senator snippily.

"My bad." Seth straightened up again, smiling. Again he moved towards Raven, and again Robin skittered in front of him.

"Get out of the goddamn way, you little fucker," Seth hissed.

"He's worth _ten_ of you, Seth," Raven cut in from behind Robin.

Seth laughed.

"He's a _human!_"

"_I'm_ half-human," Raven whispered in reply. "And that's the _better_ half of me."

"No, sweet Raven," Seth answered softly. "As Trigon's daughter you are blessed with a great heritage. You should renounce your mother's side. Your mother who—"

"Was named _Arella_," Raven finished. She laughed. "You're a fool, Seth. It's gone, all of it. Everything is _over_. Your precious prophecy, your precious powers… You are _nothing_ now…"

Robin looked briefly at her, looking away again quickly when he saw the four crimson eyes blazing from her beautiful face.

He was caught between two demons, even if one of them _was_ his friend.

"No, empath," Seth whispered. "You are wrong. I still have you as my bride; you still carry my child within your womb…"

"Something which I will be remedying very soon, I assure you," Raven answered coldly.

Seth smiled and shook his head.

"And even if I have nothing else, sweet Raven…" He paused; his face twisted, his eyes glowed with that terrible power… "Even if I can have _nothing_ _else_… I can still have my sweet _vengeance!_"

From somewhere buried deep within the very core of his body, pain suddenly erupted, exploding throughout Robin's entire form. For a few seconds he was rigid with it, unable to move, but then he doubled, clutching at himself, his chest, his stomach, his shoulders… It felt as though his blood had suddenly turned to molten metal, coursing through his veins and arteries, scarring them from inside. His mind seemed to collapse, incapable of any thought, just nerve endings screaming with the agony he was enduring. Tears streamed from beneath his mask, he tasted blood in his mouth, and he could hear himself screaming and screaming and screaming, although it sounded so far off it was as though he was completely separated from his voice. It felt as though nine-inch nails were being hammered into each of his temples, he could feel muscles and ligaments physically tearing beneath his flesh, fractures from nothing spreading across his bones, feel his thin ribs cracking… Although he could barely see he looked at his arms and saw that liquid crimson stains were spreading beneath the surface of his pale skin, where blood vessels were rupturing and bursting with the unbearable excruciation. On his knees – though he hadn't realised it – he saw vaguely that his bare legs were the same; decorated, patchy… He was curled right over, his hands tearing at his ebony hair, wet now with sweat…

All that he knew while suspended there in that terrible pain was that Seth was killing him from the inside out. He had done it briefly to Raven, to force Robin into sacrificing his life. He had refrained from doing it once Robin had agreed.

Robin knew that _he_ was going to die by it.

"Seth, _stop!_" Raven screamed, clawing desperately at Seth's arm. She clutched at him, tears streaming down her face, and Seth smiled at her.

"_Please_," Raven sobbed, breaking down. "Please, he's _dying_… _you're killing him_…"

Seth held her tightly to him, even as he felt her stiffen in his arms

"_Finally_," he whispered in reply, his emerald eyes glittering. "You know how _long_ I've waited for this? The moment he took his first breath of air I was envisioning _this_. Watching him _dying_… Granted, _this_ wasn't how I had anticipated it. He was supposed to die in the portal, but I guess… he's sacrificing himself for you anyway…"

"_I love him_," Raven whispered, closing her eyes and sobbing uncontrollably.

Seth snorted.

"_Love_," he repeated, his tone distasteful. "Such a worthless emotion, and yet the most powerful of them all. It was "love" that allowed me to get this far at all; yours and Robin's "love" for one another that allowed my child to be conceived…"

"…And my "love" for him that won't allow you to get away with this," Raven finished, looking up at him again; her eyes had once again expanded to four, glittering more crimson than even her dress. Only pure anger and hatred could ignite Trigon's influence within Raven in this way; and this _often_ in such a short space of time.

Doctor Light had been _one_ thing…

Raven's Soul Self exploded from her form in one final burst of energy; she put every last ounce of her remaining power into it, the raven-shaped soul projection enclosing around Seth, throwing him backwards-

Just as he lost consciousness – coughing up lungfuls of blood – Robin felt the pain within his broken body suddenly ease. He slumped in a heap, not even able to lift his little finger, and drowned in darkness, only vaguely aware that somewhere around him, Raven was coming to his rescue once again…

"_You're_ _going where Azar should have sent you seven hundred years ago!_" Raven screamed, her voice unnatural; double-toned, both her own and a deeper, gravely, demonic voice beneath it as Trigon's hold over his daughter began to surface in her fury. "_To __**Hell**__, Sen'th'azar, and __**I'm**__ going to seal you there!_"

The smile was gone from Seth's face now. For the first time, he was showing real discomfort; his confidence was suddenly waning…

For the first time, there was real fear in his green eyes.

"Raven, stop it!" He shouted at her as she advanced upon him, shadows of darkness dancing beneath her feet as she stepped ever closer towards him. Her hood was up, and within the shadow it cast over her beautiful face, those four rubies promised a lot more than simply death… And somehow, the fact that she was heavily pregnant seemed to make her all the more threatening as she still closed in on him, the red material clinging to her immensely-swollen abdomen only accentuating the fact that she was carrying something as inhuman and terrible as herself…

"_No, I won't "stop it", Sen'th'azar,_" Raven hissed in that terrible voice. From within her cloak came tendrils created purely from her own dark energy, and they shot at Seth as though magnetically drawn to him. He pulled and struggled as they wrapped around him, but somehow… even one such as _he_ was no match for Raven's power…

Raven rose a little way into the air, her arms spread, her four eyes blazing with power and anger and hatred. A wind whipped from nowhere, making her cloak and the hem of her dress flap like flags in a gale; and around her, as though summoned from the very abyss of Hell itself, darkness spawned, enshrouding her, and she dragged Seth towards her purely by her terrible will, even as he fought, his own eyes glowing white as her power crushed his…

"Raven, _STOP!_" Seth screamed as those tendrils of dark energy wrapped around him, binding him more effectively than any steel chain could have.

Raven laughed, and the sound was terrible; it was not even _her_ laughter, but her father's…

She closed her eyes and slipped down her hood, and her eyes had suddenly returned to normal; she opened them and they glowed as white as Seth's as he struggled. She threw her head back, her hair whipping around her face, and arched her spine as she formed her empathic bird-shaped projection one final time; it soared upwards and spiralled over, floating there for a few seconds…

"_Go to Hell, you bastard!_" Raven screamed, snapping her head back up again, and with the jerky movement her Soul Self streaked downwards, straight into Seth's chest—

His eyes faded back to green, wide with shock, and for a few seconds there was nothing but silence…

Seth screamed as white light suddenly exploded from his form and Raven's Soul Self soared back out of him, arcing upwards and diminishing to nothing but empty air, taking with it the remainder of Seth Elliott's soul-bound power.

And _without_ it…

Still screaming, Seth – real one Sen'th'azar – burst into blue flames, licking higher and higher. And then they twisted into themselves, as though caught in a sudden tornado, vanishing too into nothing. Only a tiny wisp of red-tinged energy remained, and that suddenly streaked off across the room, through the wall…

Back to its flesh.

All that was left of Azarath's most powerful senator was a scorch-mark on the floor and a faint glittering aura where he had been dispatched to a world – perhaps good, perhaps bad – beyond this.

Being reunited with her exhausted Soul Self, Raven collapsed next to Robin and blacked out too.

Seth Elliott was gone.

For now, that was all that mattered.

* * *

The above: Proof that you can kill off your main villain halfway through the story and get away with it! 

He really _is_ dead this time, BTW. That doesn't mean everything is just going to back normal, all handy dandy, _but_…

He _is_ dead. Yayz!

Ooh, the knives with Marcus? Inspired by the manga/anime _Hellsing_. Anyone familiar with it will know there's this crazy Irish catholic priest called Father Alexander Anderson, who works for Vatican Section XIII, Iscariot. He's a regenerator and has a whole bunch of blessed bayonets with which to kill vampires and other beasties. He sticks a whole load of them through both Seras Victoria and Alucard, and that's… kind of where I got the idea… :D

Next chapter: Uh, not telling… ka ka ka…!

RobinRocks xXx


	26. Broken Prophecies

OMG, I had my last evah day in school yesterday! It was sad – we had a Leaver's Assembly and some of us signed shirts and books and stuff. And we had Pupil Awards and I got nominated for Best Dressed Girl. I didn't win, this other girl did, but that still pretty cool… :D Even though they dragged all the nominees up the front of the hall in front of everyone… And the Best Couple Award was hilarious, since they didn't give it to a boyfriend-girlfriend couple, but two girls who are always _always_ **always** together… Oh, how we died laughing…

I didn't cry, though – I surprised myself, since I cried my eyes out when I left primary school…

_Author Idol_: Round 5 deadline was yesterday, but neither the entries nor the comments have been posted, and at the moment I don't know if I am in or out…

Anyways, thankyou to: **Quinn and His Quill **(no more school, Quinny Boy! Ever! Is Anderson Scottish? I must Wiki it… Okay, Wiki says his nationality is unknown, but his accent is Scottish, so… you were right. Congrats…); **LoopyLouise123 **(Yup, he's dead. Good riddance to him, doncha think?); **KGDiva **(yayz, you came back! It's so nice to hear from you again! Yeah, Raven rocks – although she is out of it again for a while now…); **YamiTai **(yes, it's yet to come. :D Also, I am glad your exams went well! I hope you great good grades. And no, I _didn't_ do what you think I did…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(the RobinxRaven part will be explained soon enough, but don't forget, they still have the problem of the baby between them, so… and yeah, the thing with the mermaid-demoness is accurate enough…); **Ray1 **(why thankyou! Here's your update!); **Guardian of Azarath **(hey, you – you ask too many questions! Pipe down in the corner there! Hee, just kidding, your questions will be answered soon enough…); **Poison's Ivy **(well, well, well – Poison's Ivy is back in the house, peeps! With her mega-loooong reviews! I hope everything in your hectic life is sorted out now, my dear – and that your bro is okay. I will deal with _everything_ you mentioned in good time, don't worry – and it's very nice to have you back!); **Me **(yeah, it is. And yes, I do. :D); **Simmie **(ooh, ouch. Nasty examiner. I'm glad the exam went well, though. And yes, we're only halfway through. My order is screwed up…); and **Someone **(why thankyou! I hope you like this chapter too!). And other readers too, and **Narroch** (some day) and **Seductive Angel** (when you get here) and **Chanceless** (also when you get here)…

And now:

Broken Prophecies

Marcus Vandiver was, fortunately, far more powerful than he ever let on.

The blades were all still thrust right through him, impaling his chest and abdomen; his crimson robes were heavy and wet and stained a darker red still by the blood. He hadn't removed the knives, and although they hurt terribly, they were nowhere near enough to kill him.

But Seth had been so blinded by rage and arrogance by that point, he had merely peppered Marcus' torso with them, smiled at his scream, and then made off to catch and slaughter Robin.

Who, incidentally, would most certainly _never_ survive having twelve blades speared through him.

It was better not to take them out until he had the strength to heal the wounds; but the pain sapped at his strength, and he couldn't even drag up his Soul Self to teleport himself. Instead he was left to weave slowly down a maze of corridors until he reached the room wherein he could sense Raven.

He smashed in the flimsy, pathetic door with a single flick of his hand even in his weakened state and stumbled down the rickety steps as fast as he was able. The rest of the battered Senate behind him weren't faring much better than him, despite the fact that they weren't sporting some rather nice new piercings…

But they would heal themselves later.

For now, they had more important matters to contend with.

Their first priority had been to heal the humans, Terra Markov and Roy Harper; they had nearly been killed by that final assault. Through healing them, and coupled with his own injuries, Marcus was more drained than he had anticipated. He certainly didn't have the energy to hold his own against Seth.

Not anymore.

But he knew that he no longer needed to.

It had taken _another_ half-demon to destroy Seth.

_Raven_.

He could only hope that they weren't too late…

Ignoring the pain screaming within him, Marcus half-sprinted across the tiny, dimly-lit room to where the Robin and Raven lay next to one another; Raven sprawled out, pale with exhaustion, one hand at her swollen abdomen.

Robin…

Stepping over Raven, Marcus went to Batman's broken child first; truthfully, he was unsure if the boy was even still alive or not. At Seth's destruction his clothes had transformed back into their original black-leather-state, but even unable to see much of his skin, Marcus knew he was in a bad way.

Behind him, a few of the others appeared; Catriona, Zachariah, Aurora, and Emma, all ready to help with the healing. The others – Michael, Lawrence, Sarah, Calica and James – were already clustered around Arella's unconscious daughter. It was, however, Robin's condition that worried Marcus more. He knew that Raven had simply exhausted herself and was, even now, in a state of self-healing; the help of the weakened Senate was probably not even needed in her case.

But Robin… Marcus knelt, with difficulty, down beside him and put his hands beneath his small, broken form, lifting him up slightly. He was barely breathing, his heartbeat was growing weaker and weaker by the minute, and he was limp in Marcus' grip, his head lolling hopelessly to one side. Not quite unconscious; not quite dead.

But almost.

Marcus laid the boy back onto the floor and stood, grimacing in agony at the effort.

"Undress him down… to his shorts," he ordered breathlessly, massaging his aching neck. "We need to be able… to get at his actual body if we are to stand any… chance of helping him."

The others nodded wordlessly and knelt in his place, grouping around the near-dead teenaged boy on the cold floor. They quickly unzipped and unbuckled and unbuttoned every article of clothing he was wearing and pulled it from his body, leaving only his black cotton boxer shorts.

Which, of course, did nothing to hide the terrible state of his body.

All across his pale form were horrific patches of red – huge, liquid bruises beneath the very surface of his skin where veins and arteries had burst under the pressure of Seth's spell. Blood trickled from his mouth and the expression his face was still one of intense agony. Marcus didn't want to guess how many bones had fractured and broken, how many muscles had been ripped beyond physical repair…

Kneeling down again, the blades jostling painfully, he took his place beyond Robin's head, placing his fingertips on the boy's temples. Robin winced even in his near-dead state as Catriona and Emma took each of his wrists and Zachariah and Aurora took his ankles in their gentle grasp. If not in this battered state, any of them could have healed him alone.

But battling Seth had left them all worse for wear, to say the least.

Marcus painfully declined his head, his silky brown hair falling forwards across his pale face, and together the five of them began to chant in unison the needed spell. Lips formed Azarathian words, and as they did so, the crimson visible beneath Robin's skin began to draw back, being pulled back into his veins and arteries and tiny blood vessels as they were repaired by the white magic coursing through him. The cracks across his bones were sealed back together as though in fast-motion; the damaged tissue in his ligaments and muscles repaired itself too…

Robin sat up with a gasp, shivering yet hot; an odd, unplaceable feeling washing over him. His skin tingled, and it wasn't just the goosebumps – a result of sitting there on the concrete floor of a tiny storage room dressed in only his underwear. He shivered again more violently and clutched at himself, looking up.

Seeing Marcus Vandiver smiling over him, looking ready to pass out – and with twelve blades sticking out of his chest.

"All I'm gonna ask is where my clothes are," Robin said flatly. "Everything else… just don't bother. I gave up on this stuff a long time ago. It's all too confusing…"

Marcus smiled and got to his feet, offering Robin a hand too. Robin accepted it and stood, shivering, and feeling silly and embarrassed to be standing there – in the basements of Wayne Enterprises surrounded by the Azarathian Senate – in his tiny black shorts and nothing else.

"We had to remove your clothes… to save you," Marcus explained wearily, noting the baleful look the mortal boy was shooting in his direction. "They are over there on the floor, exactly… where they were thrown. Unfortunately I do not have the energy to… merely conjure you up the outfit of your "choice"…"

Robin looked behind him and sighed with relief to see that it was not the immodest "Robin" uniform of yore; but instead the clothes he had walked in here wearing.

His "Official Annual Gay Jerk-Off Club Calendar-Boy" uniform.

At least it covered his legs.

_Green spandex is looking better than ever…_

"Raven destroyed him," Marcus said heavily as Robin padded over to his clothes and began to sort through the midst of the black material, surfacing again clutching his tight leather pants.

"Yeah?" Robin grunted as he wriggled into them and zipped them up.

"Yes." Marcus frowned as Robin pulled on his equally-tight Lycra T-shirt. "That outfit looks… uncomfortably tight."

"It is."

_But it's better than that "other" outfit…_

He looked up again, his gaze intent on the skewered Head Senator.

"Wait, you think my _clothes_ look uncomfortable? Those _knives_ can't feel too great!"

"Words cannot describe… the agony I am in," Marcus replied pleasantly, his smile rather serene. "But I will live."

"Well… _gee_," Robin said after a long pause, his tone extremely deadpan. "_There's_ a lucky break."

"Her Soul Self," Marcus went on, his tone becoming more urgent as he saw that the Boy Wonder was more interested in getting dressed than he was in listening to him. "She took his powers and destroyed them. That… _killed_ him. For good."

"He's really gone? _Really?_"

"To the best of… my knowledge, yes."

"Mm." Robin tugged on his gloves, flexing his leather-covered fingers.

"You don't seem to be… showing much enthusiasm, Richard," Marcus said testily.

Robin tensed as he shrugged on his leather jacket.

"Don't call me that," he said through gritted teeth. "My mom was the only person who ever called me that. When… when she was _mad_ at me… _He_ was calling me that, because he _knew_. He knew it would get to me…"

Marcus sighed. He was becoming weaker by the second and desperately needed to return to Azarath so that he could pull the blades out and recuperate. But it was vital that Robin understood what was expected from him now. Prophecy or no prophecy, he now had the most important part to play.

"_Robin_, then," he said firmly. "Listen, he's _gone_. He can't hurt… you anymore. He can't _manipulate_ you, or force… your will…"

"Oh, _great!_" Robin snapped, whipping around. "That's _great!_ _Sixteen_ years he used me for his own purposes, for his own gains… and now suddenly I'm allowed to have my _own_ life? Oh, _wow_… So do I get those sixteen years back or not? Or do I just have to start again from now? Has my entire life up until now just been _meaningless?_"

At this he ran a hand through his neat hair, restoring it partially to its original spiky state.

"Robin, I know that you are upset by… all that you have learned tonight, but please do not be… led to think such dark musings," Marcus sighed, the boy wearing him out more than the pain was.

"Why _shouldn't_ I?!" Robin spat. "My whole life, even _before_ I was born – while I was still _inside_ my _mom_, for petesakes – I've just been his puppet. He let me think I was leading my own life, that I was making my own decisions, but _no_. Every "choice" I've ever made was already predestined by _him_. He made me kiss Slade; he tricked Slade into _raping_ me. Even loving Raven… that wasn't my _own_ love. That was him manipulating my will, bending it to my own teenaged hormones so that I would act upon them, thinking it was for a deeper reason than just wanting to feel her up because I'm feeling deprived and horny. And all because he wanted her pregnant with his baby; he _used_ me to impregnate her! All I ever was to him was a vessel for his seed, and a sacrifice for his Summoning ritual. _Nothing else_…"

"And it was _wrong_ of him to… see you as so little," Marcus said pleadingly. "After all, _you_ are the one standing here alive."

"Because of Raven," Robin finished tartly, folding his arms. "She saved me twice. If not for her, I'd have died in the portal."

"Be that as it may, the outcome is… not in accordance to Seth's plan," Marcus pressed wearily. "He is dead; you and Slade still live. Which leaves us in the… middle with a problem I must admit I had… not given thought to."

He nodded behind him to Raven, still lying sprawled out on the floor, her eyes closed. But there was something about her… Robin recognised her state to be one of subconscious self-healing. She might not awake for hours, but when she finally did, she would be good as new.

"Seth may be gone, but his child… still lives within Raven," Marcus said softly. "There is no question about it, Robin; the baby… must be destroyed."

Robin waved his hand vaguely in Raven's direction.

"Kill it, then," he said breezily. "You've got the power, no?"

Marcus smiled thinly.

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid."

Robin sighed.

"Because nothing ever is," he said miserably. "Why do I get the feeling this involves me and some _more_ heebie-jeebie nonsense?"

"Because the child must be… destroyed by a flesh-and-blood creator," Marcus explained jadedly. "Seth placed a charm upon it, to prevent harm… from befalling it. And by involving _you_, Seth has sealed… the fate of his own child."

"But it _isn't_ mine!" Robin replied irritably. "I'm not the father. Seth only used me-"

"-To impregnate her," Marcus finished softly. "Yes, you are correct; it is indeed not _your_ child. But it was _you_ that put his seed within her, _you_… that became intimate with her to ensure her impregnation. And as bizarre as that sounds, Robin, in the… indifferent eyes of prophecy, that still counts. You qualify as a "creator" even though not… even one chromosome of the make-up of that child is in any way similar to yours. And so… _you_ are able to destroy it."

"With _what?_" Robin griped. "A BBQ skewer?"

"No." Marcus solemnly reached behind Robin to the back of his belt, slipping the silver knife out from it and holding it in front of Robin's face. "With _this_."

Robin looked at it boredly; really, nothing surprised him anymore.

"The Blade of Azar, right?"

"Guilty as charged." Marcus frowned, pressing the knife into Robin's gloved hand. "The only thing that will destroy Seth's child. There were originally seven of them forged – one representing each of the… seven chakras of the body – but now only this one remains. Ironically, this one represents… the _ashma chakra_; the forehead. The gemstone on Raven's forehead is also used to symbolise the ashma chakra, to help her to centre herself in meditation. The knives… were created for the sole purpose of destroying demonic beings."

"Couldn't this have killed Seth, then?," Robin pointed out bitterly, eyeing the knife with sudden distaste.

"Yes. Seth had it removed from Azarath some years ago and sent to Earth, a little before Raven's arrival with the Orb of Azarath. Nobody batted an eyelash then, but… now we see that it was because he wanted it as far away from him as possible. If someone like Jonathon had figured out… that it could destroy him – and it _could_ have, considering that he was half-demon himself – he probably would have used it. Remember, Jonathon… never trusted Seth. He was right, of course; unfortunately, his being too vocal about it… got him killed. I should also imagine that that… was why he changed your clothes… during battle. If you had even, in ignorance of its powers, tried to… defend yourself with that knife, you'd have _killed_ him…"

"I found it… stuck through Arella's shoulder. I think Jonathon might have already tried…" Robin said slowly, looking up.

"Yes. I thought perhaps… Either way, I suppose… the fact that it… is in your possession is no coincidence."

"Hmm." Robin, again, wasn't surprised. "Can I ask why?"

"For this very purpose."

"And how did you know we would beat Seth first?"

"I didn't. But I knew what he was going to do; unfortunately, there was little I could do to stop it by then. I thought it was best to let it play out, let Seth think he was in control. When the time was right, the Senate and I crossed time-zones to follow him here. I'm afraid I had to let you and your friends die for it, but it does not matter now. Roy Harper will fix the Clock of Eternity and you will return to your present and fix what is wrong."

"But you didn't know? That we were going to win, I mean?"

"No." Marcus shook his head, smiling weakly. "I just _hoped_ we would."

"Right."

Robin was slightly dismayed at the pain it caused him to crack a smile; it was like he had forgotten how to do it naturally. On the contrary, his brow seemed to be comfortably furrowed in a permanent frown. He toyed with the knife in his hands, aware of how sharp it was.

How much it would most likely hurt.

"_Hope_." His tone sounded unintentionally sarcastic.

Marcus actually smiled.

"You are a somewhat… morbid person, Dick Grayson," he mused lightly.

Robin looked up, shrugging.

"Hanging around Batman and then Raven will do that to you. I guess I'm just… I…" He wrinkled his nose as he examined the knife again, seeing it in a sudden new light. "Why does everything prophetic seem to involve me _killing_ something? Why can't it be a _nice_ prophecy? Like… oh, I don't know; I'm the Chosen One to pick the flavour of _Ben and Jerry's_ next time we watch a movie?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"Where would be the fun in _that?_"

"I like _Ben and Jerry's_," Robin muttered, looking briefly in Raven's direction.

Knowing that somewhere in the equation he would end up sticking the knife into her.

Which wasn't, needless to say, a thought that he was excited, or indeed _elated_, by.

"I… I'm gonna have to…" Robin made little stabbing motions with the knife, his expression impassive, almost childish. "Aren't I?" He finished wearily.

Marcus nodded his head gravely.

"Afraid so. Following a ritual, you must—"

He was interrupted as Robin burst into peals of hysterical laughter; and it was indeed _hysterical_. The boy could barely breathe, near hyperventilating as he tried to draw air into his lungs.

"_Ritual?!_" He spluttered finally. "_You_ expect _me_ to…?" He started to laugh again, feeling weak for it; he was practically bent double by it, clutching at his stomach.

"Oh, for Azar's _sake!_" Marcus snapped, losing his patience with the boy. He snatched the knife back, pointing it threateningly at Robin; the teenaged boy's laughter quickly subsided to hiccoughing giggles, then drained away altogether.

Because the sight of someone with twelve knives sticking out of _them_, and then holding another one…

"_Thankyou_. Now _listen_, mortal, for the fate of your world… now rests in your hands."

_Boy, __**there's**__ a line I've heard before…_

"This knife was created… to destroy demons," Marcus explained, his voice firm; Robin could see the man beginning to flag, weakening by the second. "It will therefore invariably destroy Seth's child when plunged into Raven through her flesh and womb-lining."

"Can't we just wait until she gives birth to it?"

"No."

"But I-"

"_No_, boy!"

Robin had never seen Marcus so irritated, and so resolutely kept his mouth shut.

"However," the Head Senator went on, wiping his brow with his free hand, "Raven too is a half-demon. If she were not, then you could simply plunge it… into her, kill the child, then allow her to heal herself. As it stands, when you stick this into her, she will die by it too."

"Then I'm not doing it," Robin replied firmly.

"No, you misunderstand, Robin. I said _as it stands_ Raven would be killed by it. That is where… you intervene; you must find a Protection Spell to place upon Raven when… you plunge the knife into her, to protect her from its magic."

"Is that even possible?" Robin probed sceptically.

"Of course it is. Unfortunately, as neither I nor… the Senate are flesh-and-blood "creators", we are prohibited from helping you. You must do this alone, Robin."

"What _kind_ of Protection Spell?" Robin asked wearily, sulkily accepting the knife back from Marcus. "I mean, does it have to be Azarathian, or what?"

"Anything that has powerful… enough magical properties," Marcus replied softly. "Azarathian magic, basic sorcery, Wicca…"

_Do I look like a Wicca to you?..._

Robin pursed his lips in irritation.

"Look, I've never done any kind of magic before," he started desperately. "And now you want me… to save Raven with it? What if I screw it up? What if I _kill_ myself? What if I kill _her?!_"

"_Practice_, Robin. I am not expecting you to just… pick up a book and read off a spell and make it work. You must first practice."

"What if I blow up the Tower?"

"I don't know _what_ kind of magic… you are thinking of," Marcus replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "All I am asking you to do is a little Protection Spell. There will… be many for you to take your pick from within Raven's books."

"I can't read Azarathian."

"She has books in Latin. Surely you would… be able to translate those easily enough with the aid of a dictionary."

"I'm not allowed in her room."

"Then _steal_ them… when she's not around."

Robin sighed; really, his excuses were just to cover his fear of the prospect of doing magic.

Magic that he would need to perfect if he was to save Raven's life.

Marcus swayed a little, his hand going to his forehead again; the rest of the Senate were suddenly swarming around them, supporting the Head Senator.

"We must part ways now, Robin," he said breathlessly, looking up as Catriona Darke took hold of one of his elbows, while Lawrence Westten placed a hand on his other shoulder. "We all must return to… Azarath to recuperate, and you must return to your own time and right what is wrong."

He slipped a hand into the pocket of his crimson robe and withdrew the glinting silver gear, flicking it at Robin. The Boy Wonder caught it effortlessly, his finger closing around it.

"Give that to Roy Harper," Marcus muttered. "He'll be able to send… you on your way." He smiled as he saw Robin raise his eyebrows, implying the inquiry as to where he had gotten it from. "Picked Seth's pocket while we were fighting," he explained, his grin echoing that of his dead friend Jonathon Vaughan. "I got two cigarettes… and a matchbook from _Planet Hollywood_ too, if you're interested."

Robin smiled thinly.

"I'll pass."

"Your loss, Boy Wonder. Though Azar knows what _I'm_ going to do with them…"

The mirror-like vortex – the gateway to Azarath – was summoned behind him as he spoke, being conjured by Sarah de Marçon and James Sinclair.

"I daresay this will not be the last… time our paths cross, Robin," Marcus said as the others began to file through back to Azarath, clutching at their pained afflictions. "And as it stands, consider us to be your friends."

He offered Robin a hand and the teenager shook it, smiling; a real, true smile that didn't hurt.

"Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus disentangled his hand and began to trail away towards the portal back to Azarath, leaning heavily on Lawrence and Catriona.

"Marcus!"

The Head Senator looked back over his shoulder at Robin, who had suddenly cried his name.

"Yes?"

"About Jonathon…" Robin played with the knife in his hands, then looked up. "I know I didn't come to his funeral with Raven, but… I'm really sorry about his death. I didn't come because… because I was afraid."

Marcus blinked.

"Afraid?"

Robin nodded.

"Yeah," he whispered softly. "Afraid that I would cry. The last funeral I was at was… my parents'… I just… I know it was selfish, but I chickened out…"

"No, Robin." Marcus was shaking his aching head. "It's really okay. You and… Raven were the ones that found him, and I… It's alright. It's just nice to know you care."

"I do. We all do." Robin looked up. "Star cried when we told her what had happened, actually. I mean, the Titans are there to _stop_ that kind of thing, and then it happens right in front of us, in the same _building_ as us, and we don't do anything. I guess that makes them – _us_ – feel worse."

"Some things cannot ever… be changed, Robin. It would be undoing too many threads to try and make them any other way. As painful as it is, Jonathon's death was… one of them, as was the death of your parents. Of _Bruce Wayne's_ parents. Sometimes unspeakable things have to happen to mould… us into what we will become. To shape our final destination."

Marcus brushed his brown hair from his clear blue eyes.

"That's where Seth screwed up," he sighed. "His plan should have been… flawless, but the one big mistake was that he tried to change _too_ _much_. He fooled around with prophecies written… too long ago, twisting them to his own needs, and it ultimately led to his destruction at Raven's hand not even fifteen… minutes ago. Seth had been on the road to ruin for some time now; for _centuries_, since he'd first read that prophecy about his own power. He… died by doing the unspeakable; by trying to play God."

"And what about us?" Robin whispered. "The Teen Titans? We're the "mortal gods". Are _we_ just as bad?"

Marcus smiled, shaking his head.

"Robin, the "Titans" were never _gods_."

He gave the boy a wink and turned away, disappearing with Catriona and Lawrence through the portal; the blades in him glinting in the opal light of the etheral gateway.

"_Wait!_" Robin cried desperately, but the portal closed and he was left alone in that cold empty room, with only a knife and his unconscious, heavily-pregnant team-mate for company.

* * *

Uh, and all that jazz… 

Raven's kind of not in it for a while now, but she'll be back kicking ass soon. She just needs to heal herself up…

Next chapter: Terra, Arsenal and… _Slade_…

Who, as you can imagine, isn't too happy…

And yes, I didn't kill Marcus. I couldn't do that, not all _three_ of my main-part OCs. That would just be silly…

RobinRocks xXx


	27. Dead Shot

Okay, wow, I should have updated AGES ago, since it is now old news that I am out of _Author Idol_. Heh. In fact, they're onto the judging of Round 6 now, soooo… All in all, I got through to Round 5, so it wasn't a bad run, and the best part of it was, the round from which I got eliminated was really tough, and they said it was hard to choose people to go out since they were no actual bad entries. Regardless, though, they had to put some people out, and I was one of them, along with two others.

Never mind…

There is going to be a Season Two, so we're hoping to have a much larger turn-out this time. Is anyone interested? _Please_ join in – the more the merrier! (:D)

In other news, my exams have started (_cries_) and, since it is June, I have to look at Dr Light for a month… _Rawr_. My calendar has only featured two of the original five Titans so far – Robin and Cyborg. I also very much wonder why Slade and Aqualad didn't get spots when Dr Light, Trigon, Mas y Menos and Gizmo did… Very strange… O.o

Thankyou to: **Me **(yes, indeed, we're only half way there!); **LoopyLouise123 **(Marcus, huh? I was always surprised by how… "popular" my OCs turned out to be with the readers, since OCs actually annoy _me_ in fics. But they were necessary, since you can't have Azarath with no people in it…); **Quinn and His Quill **(why thankyou, Quinn. I hope _Another Touch of Death_ is going well too); **YamiTai **(yes, this story is confusing. It confuses even me at times, especially while I was writing it. If you look carefully, there _are_ a few inconsistencies due to mistakes I made because I confused myself…); **Simmie **(as observant as always, Simmie!); **Guardian of Azarath **(Robin: "Hey, guys! I took up a new hobby – killing unborn babies!"; Other Titans: (_Speed-dial Society for the Protection of Unborn Children_); Robin: "_Nooooooooo!_"); **Someone **(you and "Me" are very annoying, you know… As for the RobinxRaven-ness… don't lose hope just yet! There is much more to come! And I might be out of school, but I have to do exams…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(actually, the latter half of this fic took more than imagination – I bought a bunch of books about Wicca spells and stuff so it would seem more realistic. Stick around to be educated on the true ways of the Wicca practice! Mwa ha!); **Chanceless **(oh, calm down, you… I'm sorry I made you emo for a whole weekend… But seriously, you can't have liked Seth THAT much… BTW, _how_ much ink have you used up on printing out this? And I can't wait to see _any_ art you do, so draw whatever you want!); **Narroch **(oho, how nice it is to see _you_ skulking around these parts again… We already discussed Seth and his lameness, so… I guess all that is left form me to say is that I "loath" _Spider-Man_ almost as much as I "loath" your spelling… heh heh heh… It's "loathe" with an "e", dude. Oh, how mean I am to you, my darling…); **Athena's Wings **(how, how many chapters left? It's difficult for me to answer that because _RTT_ is originally only fifteen VERY LONG chapters. And I have to break them down as I go into about three or four chunks a chapter, so… I can't honestly say how many there will be. This will have more than _Black Magic_, though…); **CrazyInsomniac **(yes, I am a chick. If you like Robin's sarcasm, you'll like the opening of this chapter! Although I feel I make him a little OOC-sarcastic, but… whatever. Some of the humour is a bit British too, but… well, I can't _help_ that, now can I?); **Still Sketchin' **(I swear you've reviewed before on like _Black Magic_ or something… Thankyou for your kind words; and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed all the others!); and **Haikku **(cool name. I _would_ believe you if you said you had read all three parts in (under) a day, because I know others have done it; I would _not_, however, believe you if you said you eyes didn't hurt afterwards… :D Hope to hear from you again!).

"Deadshot" is actually a villain in the DCU – on occasion he has teamed up with Deathstroke the Terminator (Slade, of course!). However, that's not why this chapter is called "Dead Shot". This chapter is called _Dead Shot_ simply because I make up titles for these "chunks" of original chapter on the fly and I am running out of ideas…

Dead Shot

Robin sank to his knees next to Raven, brushing his fingers across her forehead, tracing lightly over the small protrusion of her jewel. Locked in her self-healing state, Raven could not have awoken even if she had wanted to; she offered no sign of acknowledgement of his presence.

Irritated by the Blood Diamond glinting patronisingly at her slender throat, he pulled it from her neck. He crammed it roughly into the breast pocket of his leather jacket; another trophy for the Evidence Room.

Another report for him to write.

Oh, how to word _this_ one…

_Teen Titans Casefile: No. (insert)_

_Written by: Robin (because, as usual, no-one else can be bothered…)_

_Villain/s: That damned Seth Elliott_

_Minor/s: Slade (but I'm not sure he counts because he got his ass kicked too…)_

_Case details: Yet another reason to ask myself why I put myself through this crap day after day, week in, week out. Turns out that neither I nor Slade are "all that"; "Avenger"? __**Please**__. Ego boost it may have been, but I may as well just go and curl up and mewl in the corner after all that I've been through for a title that Seth made up. On a brighter note, turns out Bruce won't have to kill me after all; the "baby" isn't actually mine. Of course, it being Seth's makes the situation a whole lot worse, but knowing I won't have to stare at my shoes as I struggle to tell Bruce what a naughty boy I've been, and by the way, does he think that yellow is a good paint colour for the baby's room, somewhat lifts my soul. A little. Well, not much. Really. And now that I'm done making a total fool of myself at pretty much everyone's command, I think I'll go bang my head against the gym wall for a couple of hours. _

_It's been real._

_Robin, resident Boy Wonder (now one hundred percent liable for my own actions and decisions!)._

The painfully-apparent sarcasm as he ran it over in his head made him smile as he knelt there beside Raven, his mind drifting. Maybe he should start keeping a scrapbook like Star's; or maybe a diary.

_January 1st;_

_Dear diary,_

_My life sucks._

_Robin._

Maybe not.

He got to his feet and stretched, arching his lithe, acrobatic body majestically; he winced as the tight seaming of his pants dug into his crotch and quickly settled back to his regular height.

_No danger of getting anyone pregnant wearing __these__ things…_

He was prevented from dwelling on his concerns for his most precious bit of anatomy as he heard quick footsteps echoing down the hallway above; he tensed, thinking it could be Slade, restored to his regular aggressive, arrogant, hateful self. This assumption was remedied as Terra suddenly appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily, clutching at the broken doorframe.

"Oh, thank heavens…" she gasped, turning away back to the corridor. "Roy, I've found him!"

She came down the steps, taking them three at a time, and hurried over to him, her wave of blonde hair flying behind her. Reaching him, she enveloped him in a tight hug, bending a little to prevent him getting a faceful of her ample breasts.

Not that he would have complained.

"Oh, poor baby!" She crooned, rocking him slightly. "You're okay, aren't you?"

Robin nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The Senate healed me up."

"Terra?"

Arsenal appeared in the doorway too, loosely clutching his bow and taking the stairway in a similar fashion to Terra.

"Robin, you're alright?"

Robin nodded again.

"Fine. _Really_."

"And Raven?" Arsenal sounded concerned as he thumbed at the pregnant girl lying out for the count on the floor.

"Healing herself," Robin explained wearily. "She's fine, Roy. Dunno how long she'll be like that, though."

Terra released him and looked around.

"Where are all those weirdos from Raven Land?"

"They went _back_ to Raven Land," Robin replied jadedly.

"Raven Land?" Arsenal repeated, confused.

"_Azarath_," Robin and Terra elaborated simultaneously.

"Right." Arsenal raised his red eyebrows. "And the bad guy that tried to kill us all is…?"

"Dead." Robin smiled slightly. "Dead as you like."

"You?"

Robin shook his head.

"Raven."

Terra blinked but refrained from answering; the look on her beautiful face said clearly, however, "Why am I not surprised?".

Ignoring it, Robin looked from one to the other.

"Where's Slade?"

"Ah." Arsenal and Terra exchanged nervous glances. "That's the reason we were so desperate to find you," Arsenal said carefully.

"He got away from us," Terra cut in, more to the point. "We were afraid he had gotten to you first."

"Why?"

"Because he's…" Terra sighed heavily. "Being separated then reunited with his soul has really screwed him up. He's gone… well, _mental_. He's out looking for you, Robin…"

"…And when he gets hold of you, he's going to kill you," Arsenal finished wearily.

Robin rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"Nothing new there then," he muttered.

"Well, the sooner we get out of here, the better," Terra said firmly. "I'll bring the whole thing down. He's not getting away, Robin. Not _this_ time."

Robin blinked.

"You're going to _kill_ him?"

"Give me one good reason why I _shouldn't_," Terra challenged him.

"I…" Robin trailed off; he had no answer to give. He had, after all, walked in here tonight with that very thought in mind…

It seemed like years ago now.

"C'mon, let's blow this popsicle stand," Arsenal said sharply, lifting Raven from the ground and holding her limply to his chest.

Robin and Terra nodded in agreement, Terra catching Arsenal's bow as he slung it at her to enable him to get a better grip on Raven.

Robin fished into his pocket, retrieving the gear.

"Roy, this might help get me home," he said, holding it up.

Arsenal blinked behind his mask.

"Is that…?"

"_The_ gear?" Robin smiled. "Yeah. Guess Marcus has seen _Oliver Twist_ too many times…"

Arsenal smiled and shook his head.

"Never _did_ like that movie…" Clutching Raven with one powerful arm – and she looked too heavy even for that – Arsenal took the gear and pocketed it. "You'll be home saving the world by tea-time, kid," he said with a grin. "That's a promise."

"Great." Robin rubbed his aching neck. "And when I'm _done_ saving the world, I'm gonna order pizza. Deep pan, with everything. Except mint frosting and jelly beans." He pulled a face. "I'm _never_ letting Star order the pizza again…"

Terra giggled as they made their way up the steps.

"Hey, I remember that," she said over her shoulder. "I was a Titan with you guys when she did that. And we all thought it was really gross, so Cyborg dared BB to eat as much of it as possible, and then BB was amazingly, copiously sick _everywhere_…"

"I know," Robin replied dryly. "If you remember, _I_ was the one mopping it up."

"Ah, the quirks of being team-leader, Rob," Terra sighed, shaking her blonde-maned head.

"Wasn't there, couldn't comment," Arsenal said cheerfully. "But I remember that time Dick, Garth, Cyborg and I had a nacho-eating contest. Remember that, Robin?"

"It was only like, a _month_ ago in my time," Robin replied, a slight moan apparent in his voice. "Oh, my stomach still aches when I think about it…"

"Cyborg won," Arsenal murmured, shaking his head. He grinned, looking over his shoulder at Robin. "And _you_ lost, Boy Wonder. You threw in the towel when _I_ wasn't even halfway through."

"I beat Aqualad," Robin reminded him haughtily.

"Aqualad didn't _like_ nachos, so he didn't count."

"It wasn't a fair contest," Robin argued. "I had already had lunch; _you_ hadn't."

"Cyborg had already had lunch too, and _he_ beat _both_ of us."

"Cyborg has a stomach like a trash compactor."

"True, true…"

They stepped out into the main corridor, Robin and Arsenal still arguing about the fairness of the infamous nacho-eating contest; whether or not Robin's excuse that he had already eaten a whole half a pizza – deep pan, with everything – really accounted for his dismal loss.

Actually, Robin himself had to admit that seventeen nachos was pretty pitiful. Especially when Speedy had devoured well over seventy, with Cyborg clocking over one hundred of them.

And in all fairness, Aqualad's nibble of the corner of one – following by an expression of disgust and consequential throwing it into the trash – truthfully didn't really count.

Robin was anticipating returning to his own brighter, happier time more than ever. As soon as everything was cleared up, the first thing on his To-Do list was going to be challenging Speedy – the fifteen-year-younger version of the man he was arguing with now – to a pizza-eating contest. And he would _win_.

Of course.

Because winning wasn't everything; it was just the only thing that mattered.

"What are _you_ smirking about?" Arsenal asked sharply, quirking an eyebrow at the Boy Wonder.

Robin shook his head vaguely, still smiling.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Terra put her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze.

"You smirk all you want, baby," she told him. "After all, you just saved the world, right?"

"Actually, Raven-" Robin started wearily.

"_Ssh_." Arsenal abruptly put out an arm and froze, stopping and silencing Robin and Terra too.

"Roy, what-?"

"_SSH!_" Arsenal sounded irritated now, adjusting his grip on Raven. "I heard something."

"You think it was Slade?" Terra's fists clenched even as she spoke.

"Dunno. Might have been him; but it's not like there's nothing else living in here, right?"

"Mm. Bats, rats, mice, a whole delightful menagerie of creep crawlies…"

Terra trailed off as a loud _bang_ sounded, echoing down the empty corridor.

"That was no bat, Roy," she whispered.

"I know. Come on." Arsenal turned back to Robin. "Stay here a sec, kid. We'll go check it out."

He dumped Raven into Robin's arms, and the Boy Wonder immediately buckled under her weight. Arsenal reclaimed his bow from Terra and the two of them took off down the corridor and through the door at the end.

Robin slid to his knees and laid Raven on the floor. He simply couldn't hold her; she was far too heavy. He felt guilty for it, and vowed never to tell her that it had gone through his head—

He felt the shadow fall across him but didn't react in time. The next thing he knew, Slade had him by the throat, holding him above his head.

There was an utterly crazed look in his grey eye.

"A good distraction, huh?" He laughed, and even the sound was… _mad_… "Now you're _all mine_, Robin…"

Robin swung his legs up and smashed his feet into Slade's chest, breaking his balance and throwing them both to the hard, cold floor. They landed in a tangled heap but Slade had let go of Robin's neck in the process and Robin wasted no time in exploiting his sudden freedom. Writhing free, he scrambled to his feet and whipped around, his body already tense and coiled into an attack stance.

Getting to his feet, Slade laughed again.

From beyond the corridor came the furious sounds of another raging fray, and Robin's heart sank as he realised that they had walked into a trap. Right now, Roy and Terra were contending with yet _more_ of Slade's commandos.

While _Slade_…

Robin sighed jadedly.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Naturally." Slade didn't sound too perplexed by it.

Robin scowled.

"Yeah?" He spat. "How about _I_ kill _you_ first?"

He darted forwards, twisting his entire body into the smooth, flowing form of a flying roundhouse. Slade parried it and threw the boy backwards to the floor again, where he scraped to a halt next to Raven.

"I'm not playing these silly little games with you anymore, Robin," Slade said lazily. "Not that they weren't _fun_…"

He reached to the back of his belt and slid a shining black revolver from one of the pouches. Cocking it, he calmly lowered it, aiming at Robin.

"But _fifteen_-odd years of playing the _same_ game…" He sighed exaggeratedly. "It gets boring. I'm sure you understand…"

He squeezed off a shot and Robin flinched as the bullet whizzed past his ear.

Slade tutted and aimed again.

"Forgive me. I haven't done this in a while. My aim's a little off…"

Robin didn't wait for him to pull the trigger this time; instead he heard the gun fire off behind him as he rolled and darted to his feet.

For the second time in less than an hour, Slade was hell-bent on killing him. And unless he really _ran_ for his life, his arch-nemesis would most certainly succeed.

He wasn't sure if it was safe to leave Raven – pregnant, unconscious – by herself in the middle of the corridor, but he had no time to debate it as a hail of bullets exploded above his head. He blindly dived and rolled, scraping to a halt in a low phoenix stance. He rose as Slade paused for a second and examined the gun – as though it was the _gun's_ fault for missing – and used the distraction to shoot away and kick open another door on the left of the corridor. Slade's head jerked up and he screamed an expletive – _several_ expletives – at him, taking off after him; leaping over Raven as she lay dead to the world in her self-healing state.

Robin took the steps four at a time, running blindly deeper and deeper into darkness, down and down and down, flight after flight of shaking metal steps…

He smacked into a metal bar serving as a balcony of sorts, catching himself in the stomach and winding himself. Panicking, he heard the pounding as Slade tore down the steps after him, and he wildly looked around through the darkness. There was a little light further along and he was able to distinguish that he was indeed on a long steel balcony; below was another vast storage area, filled with stacks of dusty old crates. Above was a twisting maze of pipes, some of the less-dusty ones shining in the narrow light.

His best bet.

Hearing Slade coming ever closer, he broke into a run again, building up power to put behind his jump—

He sprang onto the metal safety bar and leapt upwards, catching a pipe in his hands. Using the same leverage from his initial jump he swung upwards again, flipping over in true Flying Grayson-style and catching another, going higher and higher…

"You think you can escape _me_, Robin?!" Slade screamed into the darkness somewhere behind him. He laughed and fired off another bullet upwards—

Robin gasped and froze as the bullet clanged against a pipe not even three feet away from him and ricocheted off, hitting several more on its violent descent.

And then he heard a far more terrifying sound – a heavy, clanging _thud_ that signified that Slade too was now scrambling within the mass network of pipes. Robin fled across them, twisting under them and flipping over them as easily as if he was strolling down the sidewalk.

Only _this_ had a far more urgent purpose.

But Slade could hear him now, and simply followed the panicky _clangs_ of Robin's heavy boots connecting with the metal pipes as he went fleeing across them.

In the enclosing darkness, Robin could barely see where he was going; he was merely relying on his acrobatic instinct to save him from falling to his death. Truthfully, it would have been a whole lot easier had he not been panicking as he heard Slade heavily and purposefully coming after him. He vaulted over one pipe and leapt headfirst at another, putting his hands out and flipping over it, only to ascend higher and catch another.

Yes, he would have enjoyed himself had he not been fleeing for his life.

Slade laughed wildly as he pursued the boy, enjoying the game immensely. Robin heard him and shivered at the sound of it, his desperation to put as much distance between him and the villain as possible suddenly becoming even more prominent. He was aware of how much Slade would enjoy killing him; it wasn't really a very pleasant revelation. He kept that in mind as he wriggled through a particularly tight space between two pipes, wincing as the buckle of his belt scraped loudly on the metal of the pipe.

Hearing it, Slade squeezed off another shot at the source of the noise; Robin wriggled clear just in time but the gunshot startled him and he mistimed his jump. His hands slipped on the pipe as he fell and he lost his grip on it completely, plummeting downwards from the maze of pipes high above the storage facility. Slade fired yet another shot at the sound of his startled yell, but it was miles off as Robin fell.

Knowing he was going to be splattered if he didn't think fast, Robin whipped his grappling hook from one of the pouches at the back of his belt and clicked it, sending the bird-shaped hook on its strong cable soaring upwards. It slung several times around a pipe and caught, wrenching him to a painful halt. Knowing that Slade had probably heard that as well, Robin swung back and forth suspended from his jumpline, gathering momentum. Another bullet went soaring past him, inches from his shoulder, but he kept quiet; he knew that Slade couldn't see him. He was merely following the sounds.

Letting go of the holster of his grappling hook, Robin leapt into a flying descent, spreading his weight to land with minimal injury. He smacked to the concrete floor on his feet, dropping his weight into a crouch and then immediately rolling to take the force of the impact, scraping to a halt in a low phoenix stance. He allowed himself to grimace then at the pain burning in his ankles and the balls of his feet.

"_Robin!_"

High above him – still perched within the network of pipes, and still with the gun in his hand – he heard Slade cooing his name, his voice slow and lulling, as though he thought he could coax the boy into coming willingly to his death.

Robin almost laughed.

He stood slowly, looking upwards at what he could see of the pipes. It was pitch dark but looking ahead he could see the outlines of stacks of crates and breathed a sigh of relief to know that he had some form of camouflage. He ducked behind a tower of them and began to weave his way through the maze of them. He could barely see anything and he stumbled a few times and he wasn't even sure which _direction_ he was going in anymore.

He heard nothing more from Slade.

As he half-ran, half-staggered through the labyrinth of crates – he was sure he had twisted his ankle from that landing – he went to the back of his belt instinctively for his staff. Finding only a cold knife – the la-di-da _ashma chakra_ demon-stabbing Buffy-the-goddamn-Vampire-Slayer knife – he clicked his tongue in annoyance, remembering that Seth had turned his precious bo staff into a silk scarf. He had many birdarangs, but they weren't useful in all situations. A bo staff could be used for many things; fighting, poking Beast Boy, beating Cyborg off the last slice of pizza and prying up the cushions of the couch to find the remote were all uses he had put it to in the past. Birdarangs just didn't have that many practical uses…

He'd caught Beast Boy using one (which he had stolen from Robin's room while said Boy Wonder was in the shower) as a toothpick once, but that was just…

…_Eww_…

He'd thrown that one in the trash… _after_ he'd finished yelling at the shape-shifter. Beast Boy had yawned all the way through the lecture and then sloped off to get something else to eat, leaving Robin standing like an idiot in the middle of the front room, still ranting after him and holding the birdarang as far away from his body as possible by the tip of its wing.

He felt a lump come to his throat as he reminisced about those happier times (although, truthfully, he _hadn't_ been all that happy when he had walked into the front room, his black hair still wet from his shower, to find Beast Boy sprawled on the couch using one of his prized weapons as a flossing device…).

And then, remembering that if he didn't focus he would be joining them in whatever world they had passed onto since their deaths, he pushed the thoughts and the tears away. He needed a weapon; he couldn't rely on just birdarangs, that much he knew. And he wasn't very well versed on how to use a knife; all he knew was that there was a lot of skill involved – skill which _he_ didn't have.

Cursing Seth yet again, Robin groped his way through the maze of crates—

-Stopping short with a gasp of horror as, in the darkness, he saw Slade's murky shape drop in front of him from nowhere.

He froze, his legs locking up with terror, as the smooth tall form of his enemy straightened up. Even in the narrow light Robin could see his single gray eye glittering dangerously.

"_Boo_," the man deadpanned, the single one-syllable word rolling off his tongue as he once again raised the gun.

Only the word wasn't as innocent as it was when uttered by kids in sheets and makeshift vampire costumes on Halloween.

Robin threw himself to the ground as another bullet went soaring over his head.

And now, in the confined space, he was trapped. He cowered, waiting for the next bullet to blast his skull apart as he heard Slade _click_ the gun and lower it—

There was an almighty explosion behind him as one of the crates – the one Slade's stray bullet had imbedded itself in – detonated. Robin guessed there must have been something flammable or explosive in the crate; but was given no time to contemplate it as the force and heat of the blast bodily picked him up and threw him full-force into Slade, sending them both sprawling. The initial explosion was followed up by another, and another, and another… They _all_ had explosives in them, and each blast added to the chain reaction that was quickly chasing down the entire row of crates.

Disentangling himself, Robin sprang to his feet and ran ahead of the blasts, shielding his eyes against the orange glare from the fires now spreading like… _wildfires_… He could feel the wall of heat accumulating behind him, rising and racing after him.

He did not care where Slade was.

That was until his enemy bodily slammed into him from behind, bringing him crashing to the concrete floor. Robin felt the older man's weight on top of him and immediately began to panic, writhing and grunting underneath him.

"No, I _don't_ think so, Robin…" Slade purred, twisting his arm up behind his back.

Robin let out a startled yell of agony—

-Which was then cut short as another explosion went off right behind them. Heat and debris blasted overhead, and even Slade instinctively ducked low against the ground, unintentionally protecting Robin from the worst of the blast.

"Are you… trying to kill us both?!" Robin spat as Slade raised his head.

"No," Slade drawled in reply. "Just _you_."

Another explosion put a stop to any action Slade might attempt to justify that statement, throwing him right off Robin and sending him scraping along the concrete floor.

Robin scrabbled to his feet again and broke into another run, leaping clear over Slade as he came to a halt further along the floor.

Running for his life now –and not _just_ from Slade – Robin tore down those dark crate-enclosed corridors, leaping, vaulting, springing and flipping just to stay ahead of the explosions…

_Damn Slade and his damn gun and his damn fifteen years of trying to fulfill a made-up prophecy and his damn blaming it on __**me**__…_

He burst into a clear area of ground; there was a little light coming from above. A single dull striplight lit the rest of the room and Robin could see faded yellow lines painted onto the concrete floor; safety lines for machinery. Well, down here was the stock area. It made sense.

He looked around wildly for something to use as a weapon. Some kind of pole or staff…

A smack across the back of the skull from one such weapon – almost knocking him senseless and certainly sending him staggering forwards a few paces – cut his quest short. Stumbling, rubbing the back of his head and feeling blood come away on his leather glove, he turned to focus his dazed gawk on Slade. The powerfully-built man stood a few feet from him now, his own steel bojutsu clutched loosely in one gloved hand.

The gun was shoved loosely into his belt.

Taking his hand from the back of his jet-maned head, Robin wanted to scream. Really just fling himself down on the floor and have a tantrum. He wanted to scream _until his throat bled_…

Because he would be _damned_ if he had lived through all of _that_ – Seth Elliott and his fucking seven hundred-year-old prophecy, being torn to shreds by demons beneath a portal of blood, killed atom by atom from the inside out… Damn him to _hell_ if he had lived through _that_ and was now going to be shot in the head by this… _this_…

"Fuck you!" He snapped, clenching his leather-gloved fists.

Slade's single grey eye widened behind his black and copper mask.

"Language, Robin, _language_…" He laughed softly. "Really, I'm quite surprised at you. I always thought you were such a _good little boy…_"

Robin raised his chin defiantly.

"You thought _wrong_." He smirked. "Odd turn you're taking, Slade. Wrong about _me_. Wrong about that prophecy. There was _never_ any need for you to rape me in Arkham, but you did anyway. You believed him because of what he promised you. Your greed corrupted you beyond what I would even have thought capable for _any_ man. But you were _wrong_, Slade. _So wrong about everything…_"

"If I wanted to hear a dramatic monologue, boy, I'd rather sit through three dismal hours of _Hamlet_ to do it," Slade responded dryly. "Unfortunately, I don't have that long, so even toying with you – something which I would _**very**_ much like to do before I kill you – is out of the question. Shame, really… But I'm afraid you must die, Robin. Not _only_ did you break that goddamn orb, but… if I allow you to live, you will simply return to your "own" time to right what is wrong, resulting in history being rewritten completely. _This_ existence would change – for better or worse – and the result would most probably be that _I_ am no longer in control. And you forget, Robin; you may have dashed all my hopes of becoming all-powerful, but I still rule this time-zone. I did it without _any_ kind of power, and I don't intend to give it up just because _you've_ shown up with your attitude problem from a time fifteen years ago. This world is _mine_, and _no-one_ is taking it from me, boy..."

His entire powerful body coiled into a deadly attack stance.

"…Not even _you_."

Robin smiled.

"We'll have to see about that…"

Slade snorted.

"If nothing else, Robin, I look forward to wiping that arrogant smile off your face…"

With no other warning but those words, Slade darted forwards, twisting his bojutsu over in his grip and sending an arcing swing at Robin's head. Robin dived low, twisting his body into a low sweep. Slade sidestepped it and Robin used the momentum of his body-swing to backflip to his feet. He stepped back, rocking his weight, his hands flat as was the teaching of karate. To strike or to block, to parry or deflect…

Unfortunately, not even the teachings running through his head as he adopted his battle stance could save him from Slade's next wrathful move; it was so hard and fast he didn't even follow it, instead being mesmerized by the pretty coloured stars that followed the blow. He wasn't even aware that Slade had hit him in the face but he suddenly tasted the familiar copper tang in his mouth and spat out a mouthful of blood to the concrete floor. He rolled, dragging himself to his knees, and then dived into another roll as Slade's battle cry gave away his next move. Robin tumbled and scraped to a halt in a crouch, raising his narrowed gaze to see Slade's fist had connected with the floor exactly where his head had been not even a few seconds before. He straightened and stepped back again, clenching his fists now. He wished he still had those tonfas, but even that seemed like so long ago now… Wiping off his bleeding mouth on his wrist he dived forwards into a reckless roll, springing upwards from it into an uppercut, snapping Slade's head back. Backflipping before the man could recover, Robin landed and whipped two birdarangs from his belt – still at an angle on his slim hips – crossing his arms over to fling them to build up extra momentum. They cut a figure of eight through the air, meeting their mark at exactly the same time; their sharp edges slashed an "X" into the front of Slade's uniform, baring the shining thin steel breast-plate beneath the black leather. The birdarangs clattered to the floor, bouncing off the metal at his chest.

Pausing to get his breath back, Robin pushed his fringe out of his eyes, watching Slade all the while as he looked down at the perfect tear in his precious uniform.

"An "X"?" Slade sounded highly amused as he looked up at Robin. "Interesting, especially for one such as _you_, Robin. Was it intentional, _Red X_?"

Robin quivered furiously, frozen to the spot.

"That is _behind_ me now," he spat. "You _know_ that. You've known that for fifteen years. You killed my older self _because_ of it. Because he – _I_ – was a _threat_. Because you were _afraid_."

Slade tilted his head a little.

"Perhaps." He straightened again. "And perhaps _not_."

He brought his steel-armoured foot down on the birdarangs where they lay inches from his feet, smashing their brittle frames to sparking pieces.

And seeing the horrified expression on Robin's pale face – there went _another_ two weapons – he smiled behind his two-tone mask.

"Next time," he whispered, "it will be your _head_…"

* * *

Ah, Slade, how we love your cruel little ways… 

How will this fisticuff be resolved? Find out next time… when I actually get around to updating…

And please donate kindly to the "_Remember the Titans _Review Fund!"

-RobinRocks xXx


	28. Final Destination

Hey, first off, anyone noticed how much fanfictionnet has changed? It's pretty cool now, what with email alerts for people adding you to Favourites and Alerts Lists and the new feature to the profiles, where it lists how many stories you have and what categories you have written for. Nice touch, I think.

On the other hand, there's a new profanity blocker in place. It's possibly only on reviews, which is great news, since it will stop flamers from being so abusive (that's possibly why it was put in). I'm hoping it's not in stories, though. I know some people don't agree with swearing and that's fine, that's not what I meant; it's just that sometimes swearing can help with impact. I don't overuse it, personally, only using it to underline things and make them stand out. I also try to avoid it in _Teen Titans_ fiction because it makes them sound OOC if they're swearing all the time. BUT I do use it from time to time, as I'm sure you've noticed… Plus if people have used swearing and the site is censoring the words, it gets confusing, since you don't know what it is the author was trying to say… AND it is censoring even words like "ass". An EXCELLENT weapon against flamers, though. FINALLY, ffnet.

Anyway, thankyou to: **Quinn and His Quill **(hope you liked your cameo role in _Teen Titans: Comedy Club_, dude! And 6 pages, like I said); **KGDiva **(you see, it censored part of your review! It wasn't even a bad word, either… I think you'll like this chapter, BTW); **Guardian of Azarath **(enjoy your _Batman: TAS_ fest, my friend! And you may have figured our _Noir_, homie, but you ain't got this one, nyah!); **Still Sketchin' **(why thankyou for the donation! You _have_ reviewed me before, I seriously recognize your pen-name. Or maybe I'm on your Favourites List? As for fight scenes, what can I say? I used to be addicted to _Tekken 3_, and Ling Xiaoyu was my main gal. Actually, I admit that some of the moves that Robin "uses" in my fics are taken from her. Dragonfly kick? That's Xiaoyu's move. Also, reading _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ novels helps a lot, too. That's my advice if you want to write a good fight scene: _Tekken 3_ and _Buffy_ novels!); **Crazy Insomniac **(I honestly think Hell would be a better place for Slade at this point, rather than Arkham… Don't worry about Raven, BTW! She'll be fine… ish…); **Me **(you know _perfectly well_ why you are annoying!And Slade… heh, you'll see…); **Someone **(mm hmm, I hate exams… Eleven hours of Philosophy and Ethics revision led me to write _Teen Titans: Comedy Club_. Which is… wacked. And I'm glad you take pride in being annoying with your pen-name, because you're good at it…); **Narroch **(who has, since leaving this review, vanished off the face of the Earth AGAIN. Well, here is more, but where are you? O.o); **LoopyLouise123 **(well, yeah, I guess you could say his life sucks. Wahey, it's about to get a whole lot worse for him!); **Simmie **(well, I'm out of _Author Idol_, but I'm still following the competition. We're on the final round now. The last one standing after this will be the overall _Author Idol_ winner. I hope your exams went well, BTW!); **Haikku **(yay, you came back! Don't worry, Slade and Robin will be "resolving" their issues very soon…); **Chanceless **(wow, what a review! Oh dear me, no! I'm not patronizing you! It really means a lot to me that even _one_ person reads and comments on my story, because, at the end of the day, its not like any of you guys have to. It must be because you like it, so that's really nice, so of course I would never patronize anyone who said something nice about my fic, especially not to _you_, m'dear, since you seem so enthusiastic:) I'm going to get everyone information on _Author Idol Season Two_ when it starts up, so don't worry. I can't yet though, because the first competition is still going. You should totally enter, though! As for Robin, he's not QUITE at the "suburban emo kid in the oversized sweater" stage, but I like that image! And it's okay to be homosexually open-minded, dude – just remember that Robin isn't! He's a homophobe now in this, not that you can blame the poor little mite… Thanks for the really long review, Chanceless!); and **TheFallenAngel67 **(the battle only gets harsher, dude! Brace yourself! And yeah I guess Robin is skilled, but he was taught by Teh Batman!111!lolz!… So… yeah… Good on him).

Final Destination

"Next time," Slade whispered, "it will be your _head…"_

With an enraged cry, Robin broke free of his trance and dashed full pelt at Slade once more, his entire lithe body already angled to strike a devastating blow—

He uppercut him again, twisting his arm to deliver a cracking backhand. Sending him staggering, Robin pivoted into a roundhouse, following through with his hips and spine to give it as much power as was possible. He stepped back to shift his weight, cracking his right leg up into a split kick that caught Slade in the throat. It was very painful in those tight leather pants, and he winced as he recoiled his leg, reminding himself to get back into his more-comfortable spandex ones ASAP.

Slade threw his bo staff aside – he hadn't even lifted it since smacking Robin over the head with it initially – and stepped back to recover. He massaged his neck above his steel neck-plate, his single eye narrowed and fixed on Robin.

In a weird mood of humour, Robin felt the desire to say something perky. Or a pun. A quip. _Something_.

But this wasn't Mad Mod he was fighting. It wasn't the Amazing Mumbo, or Johnny Rancid, or Doctor Light.

This was _Slade_.

And perkiness, puns and quips were three things that did not go down well with him.

Especially now that his main goal was not to bait Robin, or even corrupt him; but to _kill_ him.

Still, it _was_ tempting.

Slade promptly stamped on his desires-of-perkiness as easily as he had done the birdarangs as he flitted at him. Instinctively Robin spread his weight, crossing and locking his arms across his upper torso and face to protect himself from the worst of the blow.

In theory.

He realised far too late that he shouldn't have left his lower half unprotected – and with his legs apart like that to ground his weight – when Slade brought his knee up into his crotch.

For a few seconds he stood there rigid, locked in burning agony, his eyes so wide they hurt.

Then he duly doubled over and collapsed, his pained yell quavering with tears. He curled up on the floor, quivering and groaning and biting his lip to stop from crying.

That was it now. He was in no fit state to keep fighting after that. He couldn't even get his breath. All he could do was lie there curled in masculine agony and wait for his brains to be blown out.

For all his speed, all his agility, all his _skill_… and all _Slade's_ skill… He had been downed by the oldest and dirtiest and commonest trick of all; a good hard whack to _that_ area and he was down for the count.

"I admit that was low, Robin," Slade murmured. "What can I say? You've had it coming…"

Robin struggled to get up but he was in so much pain it was impossible to even straighten out.

"_I hate you_," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"For _that?_" Slade sounded surprised. "I've put you in worse pain than _that_, Robin. Arkham Asylum, remember? I nearly _killed_ you then…"

Robin was in no mood to reminisce about _other_ times Slade had beaten him up, curled up on the floor in the agony that he was. Sometimes being a guy was really _not_ fun at all…

Slade slipped the gun from his belt again, cocking it with an almost-silent, yet terrifying _click_.

_Getupgetupgetup_… Robin's brain screamed the mantra at him over and over again. _Get up before he kills you…_

His crotch disagreed, however.

_Screw it._

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to have his brains blown five square metres across the basement floor of Wayne Enterprises. But he couldn't do anything to remedy his imposing death sentence, because he couldn't get up. He simply _could not get up_.

So he moaned and writhed on the floor helplessly, curled up, one hand gripping his affliction, the other wrenching at his hair to perhaps try to balance out the pain.

And waited for his arch-nemesis to kill him.

What a way to die…

But nothing came.

And finally he managed to lift his head, grimacing against the pain still blazing in his most sensitive area. It was so bad he felt dizzy and sick with it.

Slade was still standing over him, idly twirling the gun in his right hand; not even aimed at him. Robin wanted to scream at him what he was doing; why hadn't he killed him already?! But that would be to invite death; to _vocally_ invite it. Robin was not _that_ stupid.

Was Slade _waiting_ for him to recover? _Why?_ Why didn't he just _kill_ him? That was what he _wanted_, wasn't it?

"Perhaps you wonder what I am doing, dear Robin," Slade whispered silkily.

Robin gave a little grunt of pain in reply, trying again to straighten out. He failed, but it _was_ beginning to subside.

Slightly.

Slade chuckled slightly to himself, the sound chilling. Robin shivered at the sound of it – and then winced as it caused him more pain. Being a guy _sucked_… not that he wanted to be the _Girl_ Wonder. Not at all. But still, it _sucked ass_…

"I am going to kill you of course, boy," Slade murmured; his voice had taken on a wild, high lilt, cracking at the end of every sentence as though he was constantly asking a question, when in fact he was _creating_ them. He sounded… _mad_…

"But I can't," he went on, his voice suddenly dropping to a hushed whisper. "I can't… not _yet_. The shadows have not yet told me to do so…"

Robin blinked up at him, not sure if he had heard that last part right. Had _Slade_ really said that? Waiting for the _shadows_ to _tell_ him?!

Detective as he was, Robin realised that you didn't have to be the equivalent of a teenaged Sherlock Holmes to figure out that Terra was right; Slade seriously had a screw loose. Not in the same way as Bruce; truthfully, Robin had barely noticed the villain's madness until right now, when he had just said that… utterly… _un_-Slade-like comment… Not even _Raven_ would say that; and at least in Raven's case, it would probably be _true_…

_Well, good on those shadows; let's hope they wait, say… half a century before they give you the "Open fire!" order…_

"Can't you _hear_ them, Robin?" Slade murmured distractedly, lowering the gun as though he had forgotten he still held it in his hand. He rocked back a little, looking at the ceiling. "They speak… they whisper of your death… they _anticipate_ it… they wish to bathe in your blood, just as _I_ do…"

_Know what __**I**__ hear? Looney asylum sirens…_

He was tempted to voice that quip, more out of contempt than anything else, but didn't.

_Don't. Invite. Death. You. Moron…_

It would be foolish to do otherwise. If Slade was his normal, not-mad sadistic self, Robin knew he would be dead. Splattered across a 20 foot radius; blood and brains and black leather everywhere. _Kablammo!_ Gone.

But he _wasn't_. Slade was a loony; Robin may have only just noticed, but _Slade was a loony._ It was the only reason Robin was still mercifully in the Land of the Living and he knew he should be damn well _grateful_ for it.

"They talk to me sometimes," Slade went on, now seemingly oblivious to Robin, who was grimacing in agony as he uncurled himself; one hand still gripped his burning crotch. "They tell me of the prophecies written in the stars… they tell me that you are soon to die… My powers have granted me this…"

Robin looked at him bewilderment. _What_ was he talking about? He didn't _have_ any powers; that was why he had come here tonight, played right into Seth's hands. Because he had _wanted_ powers.

And somehow Robin got the impression that these "conferences with the shadows" were a new thing that Slade had just come up with; that he only _seemed_ to remember doing before. The man was insane; hearing voices, creating false memories which he had never experienced. And driven to this mental stated all because of an empty promise of universal power.

All because of a _lie_.

Again, Robin could not pity him; he could only feel hatred towards this man who had already destroyed so much – so many lives – for his own greed. But he could pity the fact of the situation; that the man, who had once been clever, articulate, scheming… everything that Robin hated yet secretly admired, had become reduced to _this_. It dispelled his mind beyond belief to comprehend that men of such strength – Bruce, Luthor, Slade – could be reduced to these empty, maddened shells of what they once had been; nothing more than mere corpses of greatness.

It pained him to realise that he too could become this; and, most terrifyingly of all, with little to no effort on his part.

All too often, Slade had said that Robin was destined to – eventually and inevitably – become him.

Was _this_ what he had meant?

Was _this_… _**Nightwing**_?

Getting to his feet was agony; his knees buckled as he straightened up and he wanted to just collapse again and huddle into a little mewling ball and let the pain wear off. But doing that would mean certain death, and he could suffer a "bit" of bruising to his sensitive area if it meant being alive to feel it.

Slade snapped to attention as he saw Robin's movement out of the corner of his eye, jerking his head to face the boy in a way that made Robin feel sick; it looked as though his neck was broken, as though he was _dead_… His grip on the gun tightened again and he raised it jerkily, like a puppet controlled by someone who has not yet mastered the art of it. Suddenly himself again – or so it appeared to Robin, anyway – his cold grey eye narrowed and his finger tightened suddenly on the trigger—

Robin ducked the shot by less than an inch, rolling and scraping into a low phoenix stance. His crotch positively _screamed_ but he tried his very best to ignore it; not an easy feat, as the pain was beginning to make him feel sick despite its slight subsidation.

Slade aimed the gun at Robin again.

"The shadows say it is _time_…" he hissed.

Robin darted upwards as he said it, leaping and twisting in mid-air, cracking the gun from Slade's hand with a devastating dragonfly kick. Slade gave a cry of angered pain as something in his hand snapped from the impact and the gun was sent spinning across the floor, bouncing a few times before coming to a halt quite a long way away.

Robin landed in a crouch and swung his weight upwards, driving it to a central point behind his elbow as he slammed it upwards into Slade's jaw. Another cry; and Slade staggered backwards, clutching at his jawline, as Robin collapsed to one knee to conserve himself. He was exhausted and in agony, but all in all thought he was faring pretty well; he had gotten rid of the main threat – the gun.

Now all he had to do was deal with the secondary threat – Slade himself.

Trouble was, he had no idea how this fight was going to end.

Slade straightened, clenching his fists in absolute fury. That _damned_ boy; that _wretched_ teenaged boy, _bane_ of his _life_… Still, he had had the satisfaction of killing him once before; now it seemed that he was to be granted that pleasure once again. Fate was a kind mistress sometimes…

And Robin was surely easy pickings now. He was slowed and in masculine agony – an affliction adolescence was not kind to – and could barely stand up straight. He watched with a smile on his face beneath the mask as poor Robin forced himself to get up again, sweat glistening on his brow. The boy swayed but stood as firm as he was able, his pale face a perfect picture of defiance and determination.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy killing him again.

Still, his hand ached beyond belief from the impact of Robin's heavy boot, and he could barely curl it into a fist.

Strike One for the Boy-freaking-Wonder.

Slade sprang forwards, his foot already in a vivid arcing motion—

Robin made a strangled crying sound as the kick collided with him square in the solar plexus, throwing him backwards to the concrete floor in a heap.

Strike Two for Slade.

The villain turned and began to lazily saunter in the direction of the gun, discarded some 20ft away. Desperately, Robin watched him, struggling to his feet again.

Pain could _not_ slow him. Too much was at stake…

He threw himself into Slade from behind, his entire weight and momentum barrelling into his enemy and sending them both sprawling. They tumbled over and over, coming to rest in an entangled heap.

Ignoring his own pain; and Slade's expletives and grabs at him, Robin kicked free and dived for the gun. The cold metal came into his hand as he rolled over and came into a crouch.

His gloved fingers tightened over it, the weapon falling perfectly into the form of his curled hand. His finger brushed the trigger, settling comfortably in it.

His masked blue eyes narrowed.

He slowly stood.

Slade stood with equal languidness and cautiousness.

The gun aimed at his heart. At the middle of the "X" Robin had slashed there.

_X marks the spot._

Slade smiled behind his mask.

"You wouldn't dare, boy," he hissed. "You haven't the nerve…"

Robin swallowed; the gun shifted slightly in his grip.

Said nothing.

Slade laughed sardonically.

"I thought not. You are weak, boy. Your desire to do good makes you _weak_…"

Robin's eyes narrowed; his finger twitched on the trigger.

_This_ was what he was here for.

Kill Slade

End it.

_Avenge_.

But Slade was right; he _couldn't_ squeeze the trigger.

_The prophecy isn't real_, he reasoned wildly, shutting his eyes for a brief second. _You don't have to kill; you __**weren't**__ born for this. You have a purpose __**beyond **__what you believe to be expected of you. __**Nothing**__ is written in stone…_

"I always _respected_ you, Robin," Slade crooned, his tone so maddeningly mocking Robin very nearly shot him there and then. "I always admired your nobility; your determination to get the job done no matter what. Your ability to always overcome every _problem_ that came your way…"

His eye flashed mockingly.

"Until we reach this," he whispered silkily. "What you might call "The _Final_ Problem", hmm?"

Robin winced at that jibe; a Sherlock Holmes reference. The supposed "final" tale in which Holmes and Moriarty, unable to prevail over one another, simply died together. The final struggle that saw them fall into an eternal abyss; of both Reichenbach Falls, and of the void of their hatred for one another—

"_I'm_ not going to die!" Robin snapped, clenching his free hand into a fist. "_You_ are! You're going to pay for everything you've done; to Terra, to Roy, to Bruce, to the Titans, to everyone who fought against you, to this city, to the entire United States of… to the… It ends _now_, Slade!"

Slade laughed his cold, cruel laugh.

"And who is going to "end" it, Robin?" He gasped. "_You?!_" He sniggered some more. "Your arrogance blinds you, boy. You do not know how to fire. You are a _superhero_…"

His laugh died and then all there was with that steel-bending gaze.

"…_Superheroes_ don't _kill_."

And something in Robin quietly snapped. His entire body became cold and numb, his blue eyes seemed to burn, his mouth became dry.

He looked at the masked man before him and hatred arose within him unlike any emotion he had ever felt.

He had to—

"_I'm not a superhero_," he whispered. "_I'm the Avenger_."

His finger closed on the trigger with a sudden jerking, spasmodic movement that he barely controlled.

There was a _BLAM_ that he barely followed; his hearing seemed to have waned considerably.

Slade did not utter a sound; his single eye widened and then there was sudden explosion of blood that splattered all over Robin.

He blinked as it splashed all up his face, but otherwise he did not move at all.

Slade collapsed and moved no more; a pool of blood quickly spread beneath him.

His single grey lifeless.

A sudden tremor overtook the Boy Wonder and the gun fell from his hand, clattering on the concrete floor.

Emotions sudden thundered throughout him in a tsunami of indescribable confusion.

His stomach heaved.

Looking wildly up, he saw the ascending metal staircase leading up a platform at the other side, with a door to in and out of the warehouse through. It looked like the one from _West Side Story_.

Such sentiment was forgotten to him as he made a sudden mad dash for it.

He forgot everything. Slade. Raven. Seth. The prophecy.

He just needed to get outside; breathe fresh air…

-He staggered up the last few steps and pushed down the bar and broke out into the night. The door swung shut behind him and he found himself on another metal platform, this time – from his perspective – those twisting steps leading down.

He was at the back of Wayne Enterprises. Beyond stretched the latter ruins of Gotham City.

It was raining, clouds of damp dust rising above the ruins.

Collapsing to his knees – his crotch still aching, his stomach still smarting – Robin bent over and threw up every last scrap of whatever little there was in his stomach. He retched in the aftermath of it, sickened further by the taste of bile in his throat.

Nothing more.

Shaking, he knelt up again.

He had killed someone. He was a _murderer_…

_Murderermurderermurderer…_

He wiped his face, his hands coming away bloody. His front was splattered with it; his hair was matted with it.

The events of the night running right up to the "Final Problem" ran through his head; the breaking-in, the confrontation with Slade, the revealment of Slade's seer as Seth Elliott, Seth's real prophecy, Robin's true role in his plans, the truth of everything, his near death in the portal, the arrival of the Senate, his and Raven's escape, Seth's final vengeance, Robin second agonizing brush with death at Seth's hand, Raven's destruction of him once and for all, and then Slade all over again…

"The Final Problem" indeed.

He tried to puke again but there was nothing left for him to force from his body.

He looked up at the murky, polluted sky of the broken city.

Not a star in sight; nor even the moon. The murky cloud that was always there simply eclipsed them.

That much he knew.

Robin _screamed_.

He screamed _everything_; everything he _felt_. All that was _within_ him. Pain and hatred and fear and anguish and confusion.

He screamed and screamed and screamed until he could scream no more.

And then, when he had collapsed on the wet metal boardwalk with the exhaustion of it, he sobbed.

"You'll catch your death."

Robin started and looked up, recognising that voice—

Batman loomed over him in full gear, the rain making the pointed ears of his cowl droop a little. His cape – sodden – was wrapped around his body.

Well, at least he _recognised_ him.

Robin had not heard him ascend the metal staircase; but then, that was part of what made him so effectively scary.

Another _tap_ on the metal indicated that Bruce had brought company along for the ride; tilting his head, Robin saw Lex Luthor standing on the last step, one foot on the platform. He had a tan leather trenchcoat thrown on over his untucked white shirt, loose black tie and torn trousers, and looked colder and wetter than he would have desired to be.

"Get up, Dick," Batman commanded. "You shouldn't sit out in the rain."

Robin wiped his face, feeling the tears starting again.

"Bruce, I-" He started, his voice quavering.

"You killed him," Batman finished shortly. "I know."

Robin blinked through his tears.

"What? How?"

"I knew you would," Batman replied blandly. "You had to. You do what is _right_; that is what I _taught_ you to do. To protect the good and uphold the law."

"But I _broke_ the law!" Robin wailed miserably. "I _murdered_ him!"

"And you've saved the world by doing so. Congratulations. I could not have done better myself."

Robin stared at him.

"Didn't you hear me? I _murdered_ him! I _shot_ him! You _hate_ guns, you _hate_—"

"Robin," Lex interjected quietly from the back, "there is no-one _here_ to prosecute you. What you have done is good. I know you don't understand that, but Bruce is right – you've just saved the world."

Robin opened his mouth to reply—

The door behind him opened again and Terra burst through it, the "murder weapon" clutched in one hand, Arsenal's bow and quiver of arrows in her other. Arsenal followed, Raven in his arms.

"Robin!"

Terra was knelt beside him in a flash, her arms going around him in a tight embrace. Her blonde hair fell like a curtain across him, separating him from the rest of the dark rainy world.

"We were so scared Slade had killed you!" She whispered frantically. "But then we—"

"I _killed_ him, Terra!" Robin sobbed, clutching at her in utter misery.

"I know, baby. It's okay, it's really okay…"

Batman snorted and turned away, facing Lex.

"Help me back down," he said, still in that clipped tone. Lex outstretched his arm around the other man and together they slowly made their way back down the steps.

"Come!" Batman called back up to the others. "There is plenty of room in the Batmobile."

Terra and Arsenal exchanged wild looks.

"It's alright, _I'm_ driving!" Lex shouted up wearily, as though knowing of their thoughts.

Arsenal raised his eyebrows.

"Guess Brucie decided to show up after all. Missed all the action, mind…"

"One of his weird notions, probably," Terra responded dryly. "Come on, Robin—up you get…"

Terra hauled Robin to his feet; his confidence and determination of only ten minutes before had fled him completely, leaving him a weeping wreck. Terra put her arm around his shoulders and led him down the staircase, closely followed by Arsenal precariously making his way down clutching the unconscious pregnant Raven.

"You did it, Robin," Terra whispered, giving his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay now, baby. You did it. It's all over now; it's _over_…"

Robin looked up at the sky and let the rain wash the blood from his face.

He looked back at Raven, her stomach swollen by pregnancy.

He felt the knife in his belt.

He thought of the gear; and the Clock of Eternity.

The Titans' deaths.

No, it was not over; that much was certain.

He still had a long way to go until he had reached his so-called "final destination".

* * *

Firstly, I want to apologize to all the gentlemen in the audience (I _know_ there are three of you, I _suspect_ there are more…) for the empathic "_Ooooooh_…" you no doubt felt at a certain point in this chapter.

"Mwa ha ha," says the female author.

Would Robin ever kill? Debatable question. There is _Haunted_ to consider, where he's so psychotic he threatens his own friends, and _Trouble in Tokyo_, where he goes so far overboard he technically he _does_ "kill" Saico-Tek. That would possibly leave you swaying towards a "Yes" (although I hadn't seen _Trouble in Tokyo_ when I wrote this chapter). Moving outside of _Teen Titans Animated_, however, Dick Grayson is a bit stricter on the whole "Don't kill your enemies" thing. In _The New Teen Titans_, he admits that Starfire frightens him because she is a warrior and doesn't know where to draw the line when fighting bad guys; and there's also the more recent storyline in the monthly _Nightwing_ series, where he sort of goes into this spiralling depression, consumed with guilt because he didn't stop Tarantula from shooting Blockbuster.

So… tough thing to consider. I debated doing it for months while I was leading up to this part in the fic. I almost didn't.

But… I did.

So… yeah. Give me your thoughts on this turn. I think it's an interesting one, if maybe not _right_.

Oh, and I was on a _Sherlock Holmes_ obsessive streak while I was writing this chapter, hence the incredibly detailed reference. My one and only _Sherlock Holmes_ one-shot, _Protégé Moi_, was written at the same time as this.

-RobinRocks xXx


	29. Catharsis

God, I guess it was about time I updated. Yes, I _am_ still alive.

Two important things: Today, 1st July, is my very own self-proclaimed "National Holiday". Yesiree. Yayz for me. What _is_ my self-proclaimed national holiday? _Dan Aykroyd Day_. Woot. :D I came up with it about four years ago. So far it hasn't been publicly accepted… O.o But it comes from a weird link of coincidences. Today, 1st July, is Dan Aykroyd's birthday (I dunno how old he is, incidentally…). Today, 1st July, is also Canada Day. Dan Aykroyd is Canadian.

Hence… Dan Akyroyd Day. There we are. Celebrate and whatnot. :D

Secondly: As promised, information on _Author Idol Season Two_, being held over at TitansGonet. People, please join in! It is **so** much fun, honestly! It's the same rules this time around; submit a piece on any topic of your choice (fanfiction, original, poetry, whatever) between 300-500 words by **July 22****nd**. You do need a TGN account, though. I have put up a link on my profile taking you directly to the information page itself so you can read more, but this just to say that Season Two is underway! Yay! Ooh, been out of the game too long…

Oh, thankyous go out to: **Quinn and His Quill **(nyes, quiet, you hypocrite… Tch, killing your main character… _Again_.); **LoopyLouise123 **(ah, alternate reality time-lines… they're tough since they're not linear, so yeah, Slade is dead, but no, he's not really dead, because there's another one, and _argh_!); **Aeris-Raven **(okay, well… since you're so pumped, I hope you like the rest!); **KGDiva **(heh, well, crazy Batman? Always a humour point. And yeah, there's still another Slade to contend with…); YamiTai (yeah, but Crazy!Slade is now a lot more dead! than SomehowSane!Slade… There is mucho Robin angst to come, BTW…); **Guardian of Azarath **(uh, well… the comics are good! That's all I will say… Oh, and… hn… I was going to say something else…. O.o); **Narroch **('tis my Narroch! July, dude! Kyah! Uh, well, like I said, I debated whether or not to kill him, and… I did. I almost didn't. And were there really mistakes? See, you shouldn't beta your own stuff…); **Me **(well, he _isn't_ immortal, so he died. Mwa ha ha. And yes, now there are two f you. Lovely…); **CrazyInsomniac **(uh, well, I hope you got your head back, because that would just be tragic. _Tragic_… And yes, Batman is crazy. And no, not just because he wears a bat costume.); **Someone **(wow, you know someone who actually kicked someone there? Ouch. I bet _he_ wasn't laughing… And, uh, I wouldn't know if spandex is comfortable or not…); **Simmie **(no, Batman is still crazy. And I'm glad you support Robin's choice, since… well, now he's all emo and such like…); **Still-Sketchin' **(ah, yes, because I _knew_ I'd seen your name before!I was pretty much swinging on the whole _Haunted_ thing, so… yeah. I can totally see it); **TheFallenAngel67 **(um, 'dues... I guess you can address it to everyone, really. I do. :D Are Lex and Bruce gay? In this alternate future? With the hot man smex and what-not?... No.); **Chanceless **(up above, just for you: Info on _Author Idol_! You'd better get writing, homie! Um, the last chapter _was_ named after _Final Destination_, but… I haven't ever watched them. Oh, and…. You _want_ Terra's hair? You can't have it! Then she'd be _bald_!); and new reviewer **LadyTaurus4eva** (I wanted to reply to you properly but you didn't log in, so… Um, the answers to all your very precise questions will be answered, like RobinxRaven/Starfire and RoyxTerra… ooh, and the baby. Yes, Raven… agh, I can't say, but sharp questions, dude. Sharp. :D).

Okay, I'm… talking a bunch of crap here, really…

Catharsis

Arella knew they were back; they had been back for a while now, each battered and bloodied senator dragging themselves away to their respective quarters to recuperate.

Loathe as she was to admit it, she could see the clear sense in Marcus' orders that she remain behind; she was powerless, and, quite frankly, wouldn't have stood a chance against Seth Elliott. She'd have been killed where she stood, and since Seth wasn't a big fan of hers – and vice versa – she knew with a cold chill that he would not have hesitated even for a split-second to do so.

She had changed out of her battle garments and back into her white robes; and drifted along the corridor now towards the Senate Offices, where she knew Marcus must be.

She could only assume that Seth had been defeated, due to their return; but that told her nothing of the nature of the victory.

Nor nothing of her daughter and her welfare.

"Marcus?" She knocked on the door; and then, when she received no answer, knocked and called again, louder. "Marcus, are you in there?"

Still no answer; her pulse pounding, Arella pushed down the door handle, finding it to be unlocked. She slipped into the room, taking down her large white hood as she looked around for him.

"Marcus, are you—?"

She cut herself off abruptly with a sharp little gasp as she found him floating in a lotus position three feet above the surface of his desk, his eyes closed, his lips silently forming fluent Azarathian; but what had made her back up so hastily was the fact that he had a dozen blades sticking out of his torso at every possible angle.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she watched him in stunned silence. It was obviously something he was able to handle, due to the fact that he was able to sustain his level of meditation, but even so…

"Seth did this to you?" She asked finally, raising her gentle voice.

Marcus opened one indigo eye.

"Ah, Arella." He looked down. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Still suspended in midair, he uncurled his sitting position and stood on thin air, beginning to descend as though walking down a flight of invisible steps towards her; as he did so, the blades all magically slipped out of his body, fading to pale, shimmering pearly dust which scattered in a rough halo right around them both as he came to a stop before her, both feet on the floor.

"I trust this evening finds you well?" He continued as she watched the slits left in his robes repair themselves before her very eyes.

"As well as can be expected," she replied, finally looking up at him. Then she gave him a faint little smile and rested her hands on his shoulders. "I am glad you are… alright."

"It was very close, I will admit that," Marcus replied airily, sounding unconcerned.

"But he is dead?"

"Oh, yes. I think we can most certainly and gratuitously assume that."

"Did… did you…?" She asked tentatively. "Or… was it Robin, or…?"

Marcus raised his eyebrows.

"It was your daughter, Arella, and I think you know that perfectly well."

"I hoped… that I was wrong."

"Ah, but you know she is the only one who had the power to defeat him." Marcus gazed fixedly at her. "Seth thought himself a god. Raven is the daughter of a being who, in a perverse and inverted manner, technically _is_ a god. A terrible one, yes, with unholy power, but god-like in that. She was always the one. The _only_ one, Arella."

"And speaking of _him_," Arella hissed, "what will… _this_… do to the influence he has over her, or the… prophecy, or—?"

"I do not pretend to know," Marcus interrupted calmly. "There is blood on her hands, but… if not for her, then I think I would be correct in saying that we would all be dead, and the earth…"

He gave a little shiver.

"No, he is gone. Justice is done."

"But _you_ wanted revenge," Arella said quietly. "For Jonathon. For what he did to Jonathon."

Marcus studied the marble floor for a moment or two.

"I will not deny my sin against the ways of Azar," he said finally. "But know that I went to war for the greater good, Arella. I have not played this ruthless game simply _for_ revenge."

"No, but an apt by-product, hm?"

"Yes, I suppose it was," Marcus said dully. He looked at her for a long while. "You think me tainted."

She blinked once or twice, unable to answer; he smiled, the twitch of his lips almost condescending.

"So did Jonathon. Perhaps you are both right. But I am not Seth, nor will I ever _be_ him. All I ask is that you believe that."

"I do," Arella replied softly.

He nodded.

"Well, I thank you for that." He went to the window. "But this isn't over. In many ways, it has only just begun. You do understand that, don't you?"

"Yes. Well." She paused. "The child."

"Yes." Marcus sighed. "I have set the boy upon the right path, but there are ties, so many ties… I cannot tell him everything, for I might nullify the action he takes. It is through a sheer lucky loophole that he is able to destroy it at all. I cannot take the chance of undoing that loop any more. There is much I did not tell him, and I sorely wish that I could have."

"Then what shall we do?" Arella pressed.

The Head Senator gave a little shrug of his slender shoulders.

"There is nothing we can do. As I said, it is sheer luck that we _have_ a Destroyer in Robin. No living being outside of that title may assist him in the slaying."

"He may well kill _her_," Arella snapped.

"That is a possibility," Marcus agreed. "But if he does not _try_…"

Arella gave a heavy, aching sigh.

"I wanted so much for Raven to just… be a normal girl, with none of… _this_," she whispered. "Why _shouldn't_ she have the life she deserves? The life that every _other_ teenaged girl leads."

"It is not so much a question of why 'shouldn't' she, but rather why 'can't' she," Marcus answered. "And I think you know the answer to that."

"Yes," Arella said bitterly. "Yes, I do. I have always known. _And so has she_."

"Then there is no question at all." Marcus collapsed into the chair at his desk. "Arella, I thank you for your concern, but I am exhausted and not fully healed yet. I beg that you leave me be for now. We will continue this discussion officially tomorrow, as Head Senator and Vice-Head Senator."

She nodded.

"I understand."

She gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek and slipped from the office again, closing the door quietly behind her.

Hardly the fiery kiss of Jonathon; it was one of compassion, not need and lust.

But then again, maybe that was really rather ironic.

* * *

"You really think it's all over?"

Terra looked up Roy – he truly _was_ "Roy" again, having now peeled away his mask and ditched his bow and arrows – and cocked her head; her thick wave of blonde hair fell away from her right eye.

"What do you mean?"

"You know…" Roy sighed and folded his arms. "Do you _really_ think that's it? That it's all over? That… all the horrors of these last fifteen years have just melted away? _Blown_ away, I should say… by that one bullet?"

"Well… no," Terra replied carefully. "And yes."

"How can it be both?"

"Because…"

Terra turned away from him and crouched down, flicking bits of broken wood into her "fireplace". They were both in the back room of the church; alone. Bruce and Lex had departed after dropping them off there – probably back to Wayne Manor; Lex stayed there sometimes in the BatCave with Bruce, if Bruce wasn't being _too_ murderous. Raven was still out for the count and Robin was in a… _strange_ mood, to say the least. They had left him prowling around the church itself, Raven on the floor of the altar wrapped in blankets. Robin had said that he wanted her out there with him, so that he could keep an eye on her.

As though he didn't think Terra and Roy were capable of keeping an eye on her.

Robin was soaked through but wouldn't change his clothes, even though he was shivering and certainly despite the fact that Terra had informed him that leather was _murder_ if it dried on you.

Well, _he_ would be the one struggling to get out of it in a few hours time.

So Terra and Roy – seeing that he wanted to be alone – had complied with his unspoken wishes and let him be for the time being.

The kid had just _killed_ someone. And Slade might have been their _enemy_, but even so…

Killing was killing.

And Terra knew how it felt.

So they were alone, she and Roy.

Just as they had been so many dozens of times before.

"Because," Terra started again, "I mean… of _course_ things are going to change, Roy. Slade's gone. Gotham is free from _him_, at least."

"And the likes of Chester Lambini?"

"Well, that's what I meant when I said no," Terra agreed. She stood again and faced him. "Things _will_ change, Roy, and hopefully they'll be for the _best_. But they're not gonna switch from bad to good overnight. _You_ know that, and _I_ know that…"

"Yeah. I mean, Slade… he destroyed so much, killed so many… it could take _years_ for Gotham to flourish again…"

Terra nodded grimly.

"Those gangs, those drug-pushers, those whore-houses and street thieves… they gotta _go_, Roy. Before _anything_ happens, _they_ have to _go_."

Roy grinned.

"That's why _we're_ here, honey," he beamed, taking her wrists. "We might not be Batman's Titans anymore, but… well, _Slade_ was _one_ thing. Lambini and his motley crew ain't got a _chance_ against us. I mean, _tonight_, T… tonight, you an' me… that was _serious_ _teamwork_."

Terra looked up at him, her blue eye(s) wide.

"You think… you and me, we're gonna clean up this _whole city_?"

Roy shrugged.

"Sure, why not? Look at Bruce and Dick all those years ago, as Batman and Robin; before even the _Teen Titans_. You know, a powerless guy and an eight year old kid? If _they_ can clean up a whole city, then I think _we_ can do the same, huh?"

Terra smiled weakly.

Roy released her wrists and put his hand up as though reading a newspaper headline.

"I can see it now… We'll get the economy the right way up again, kick the likes of Lambini up the ass… it'll be good…"

"Yeah, right… All cower before the wrath of the Masked Bartender!" Terra jibed mockingly.

Roy shrugged.

"It might catch on."

"I doubt it."

"T, I'm serious! I mean, about… sorting Gotham out."

"I know," Terra answered calmly. "I know. And we will. You and me, and…"

"Bruce?" Roy snorted. "_Puleeeze_…"

"Maybe not," Terra agreed sheepishly. "I can't see Lex being terribly interested either…"

"_Just_ you and me, then?"

Terra sighed deeply.

"Guess so…" She put her head in her hands. "If only—"

"Don't start, Terra," Roy interrupted coldly. "About the Teen Titans, and _our_ Titans… I just don't wanna hear it, okay? Not tonight…"

"Roy…"

"_No_!" Roy walked past her, suddenly angry. "Terra… I _miss_ them, okay? I _really_ miss them, especially Dick and Garth… But they're _gone_, and tonight was _our_ victory. We won, we avenged their deaths… Slade is _gone_."

Terra watched him kick at the fire – struggling to get started – tears stinging her eyes.

"Roy, _we_ didn't do anything!" She snapped at him. "_Our_ victory? What are you talking about? We would have _died_ tonight if not for those Azarathian senators, and _Slade_? Roy, that wasn't _our_ victory! That was _Robin's_! _He_ killed Slade! Not _you_, not _me_; _Robin_."

"Oh, yeah, and he feels just _dandy_ about it, doesn't he?" Roy griped in reply. "Terra, tonight was a victory for us too; Robin had no real _reason_ to kill _our_ Slade, did he?"

"He raped him and used him," Terra countered.

"Not _that_ Slade," Roy pointed out. "Robin's not from this time – _our_ "Robin" is dead, T. The Dick of _this_ time is dead as a doornail, killed by the Slade that the Robin of a time _fifteen_ _years_ prior to _this_ one just killed… what, about an hour ago? It's all very confusing, I know, but the point I'm making is that… the Slade that Robin just killed _isn't_ the same one that raped _him_."

"I hardly think such trivial details matter to Robin," Terra said coldly. "Slade is Slade."

"Yes… and _Slade_ is _dead_." Roy turned back to the blonde geomancer. "No matter _who_ killed him… you know, if he killed _himself_… he's _gone_. It doesn't matter _how_ or by whose _hand_ he died. The point is that he's gone… and Gotham is _free_. _America_ is free."

Terra was silent, not having an answer for that.

"Roy…" she said finally. "Tonight, I was… so confused by everything… that guy, the one with black hair…"

Roy frowned.

"Yeah… uh, _Seth_, I think they were calling him…"

"Mm." Terra nodded. "Yeah, _him_… He _knew_. He _was_…"

"The Master of Time," Roy finished wearily. "I know…"

"And the seer," Terra added weakly. "This whole time… all those years… and I was staring that guy in the face the _whole time_…"

Roy shook his head.

"I think there's lot we don't understand, Terra," he said finally. "A _lot_ that Robin hasn't told us."

Terra nodded.

"He _will_, though. He _needs_ to," she agreed. "But… not _now_. Give him a little while to himself. He needs to go home and fix up his own time, but… he should stay here, at least overnight. To rest, you know?"

Roy nodded too.

"Yeah, I'll fix the clock when he goes to sleep. He _needs_ to sleep, and he's not going back to his own time before he _does_."

Terra sighed and sat down next to the fire, watching the flame creatures dancing in it.

"You okay?"

She looked up at Roy and forced a smile.

"Sure. Why?"

"You seem…" Roy trailed off and sank down next to her. "…I dunno… _Distant_."

"There's a lot on my mind at the moment," she agreed softly. "It's all so confusing…"

"I gather you're not too thrilled about seeing _her_ again, huh?"

"Hmm?" Terra blinked at him, her eyes wide.

"Don't act innocent with me, Terra," Roy went on sharply. "You _know_ what I mean. _Raven_."

"Oh…" Terra looked intently at the flames again. "Well… not really. She was never my _favourite_ person in the whole wide world… What I _would_ like to know is how she even _got_ here. Robin distinctly told me she was _dead_; she got electrocuted."

"That Seth guy, I'm guessing," Roy put in. "He certainly seemed all over her, didn't he? I heard him calling her his "bride"…"

Terra looked up at him.

"Yeah, she's… _pregnant_…" She shook her blonde head a little. "And Robin… the other night, when I first found him… he swore blind it was _his_ child she carried. It was definitely _him_ that impregnated her. But now… it's _Seth's_? How does that _work_?"

"Look, like I said," Roy said, "there's a _lot_ we need explained to us."

"You reckon she slept with him?"

Roy shot her a Nicholson eyebrow.

"I know you're trying to make her out to be a cheap whore, T, but I ain't buyin' it," he replied dryly. "No, I don't think she slept with him. Robin was spoutin' off about Seth using him to impregnate her… Look, I don't get it either, but I'm _certain_ she didn't sleep with that Seth guy."

Terra snorted irritably.

"Always defending the fairer sex, huh, Roy?" She mused bitterly.

Roy grinned.

"You know it; and FYI, that extends to _you_ too, Rocky."

"Gosh, aren't I _fortunate_…? And don't call me "Rocky". My name is _Terra_."

"I know… _believe_ me, I _know_…"

Terra gave a shaky little shrug and curled up tighter in front of the fire. Sensing that something was wrong – something _else_, something _more_ – Roy moved closer to her and slipped his arm across her shoulders.

"Get the hell off, you sleaze," Terra muttered at him. Roy smiled wanly and did no such thing.

"Come on, Terra," he pressed softly, giving her a squeeze. "We're buds, right? What's up?"

"Nothing."

"_Nothing_?" Roy asked skeptically. "Or… nothing _I_ would _understand_?"

"Roy, you don't care…"

Roy was hurt.

"'_Course_ I care, honey," he went on soothingly, not letting the hurt sound in his voice. "What makes you think – even for _one_ second – that I _don't_?"

"Roy, it's…" Terra sighed and shrugged him off. "It's not that… I just… you just don't _understand_…"

She got up and walked restlessly around the fire.

"Did you keep this many secrets from _Beast Boy_?" Roy barbed, becoming irritated. "All those years back, T?"

Terra folded her arms, her back to Roy.

Silence.

"_Yes_."

She looked up at the ceiling of the back room; cracked stone choked by moss and strangled by ivy – and remembered a time, over fifteen years ago, when she and Beast Boy had sat on the rocks at the shore of the little island on which Titans Tower proudly stood, skimming rocks and pulling grotesque faces at each other.

She had gotten a little _too_ excited, she remembered, and had allowed her powers to spark out of control; allowing Beast Boy to make the educated guess (and quite possibly _the_ most educated one he had ever made) that she did not actually have complete control over them in the _first_ place.

She remembered so clearly what he had said to her after she made him promise never to tell anyone.

"…_But really, it's no big deal. If my friends knew, they'd still like you…"_

And she had turned away from _him_ then too, and uttered the same words…

"…_You just don't understand…"_

She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking slightly as she felt warm tears slip down her face. She hugged herself tightly, biting her lip.

The song that Roy always mockingly sang when referring to Bruce if he was in one of his… "odd" moods came into her head; _Total Eclipse of the Heart_. A Bonnie Tyler song – and the line:

"…_Every now and then I fall apart…"_

Roy was fond of singing that line as they made their back through the ruins of Wayne Manor – usually whenever Bruce had thrown a blue fit and practically chased them out of his BatCave.

It always irked her because sometimes she felt that about _herself_. Usually she was calm and collected; but sometimes, when she was alone, she would just burst into tears and cry and cry and cry…

For everything. Everything she had _done_; everything she had _seen_…

"Hey, _hey_…"

Roy was behind her, his voice soft and lulling in her ear; he slipped his arms around her shoulders, rocking her gently.

"It's okay, _it's all okay_…"

She sobbed a few moments longer; then tore herself away from him, her large eyes blazing amber.

"It's _not_ okay!" She shouted at him. "It's _never_ going to be okay! We might have _won_, Roy… but things will never go back to the way they were. Slade's death isn't going to revive the Titans. It isn't going to revive Dick or Garth or Barbara… It's _not_ gonna revive BB!"

"But you always _knew_ that," Roy reasoned calmly. "We were never fighting to get them back. We were fighting to _avenge_ them. Come on, T; what is it? What's _really_ up?"

She shrugged him away defiantly, tossing her wave of blonde hair back.

And then, suddenly, Roy understood.

"Oh, jeez, Terra…" His voice was soft and sad. "She's _pregnant_… I forgot, _you_…"

"It's okay." She looked at the floor, gritting her teeth. "It's not your fault."

It was true, she hadn't exactly wanted the baby in the first place. It was unplanned and she didn't love Nightwing in that way and was therefore distressed to discover herself pregnant with his child. But even _that_ would have been okay…

…if he hadn't gone and gotten shot to pieces. They hadn't loved each other; but together they could have brought up the child all the same, teaching it by their way of goodness and justice.

But of course things never went to plan. First Nightwing had died; his child not long after, both murdered by Slade.

No, she had never loved Nightwing sexually. Her heart had always been for Beast Boy – and when he had died all those years ago, just fifteen years old, she had never wanted anyone else. Her grief for the green shape-shifter had caused her to close herself off to other people; it was true that Terra had never been the same happy-go-lucky, exuberant individual she had been during her time as a "Titan"; the clumsy girl who somehow managed to look graceful. Who ate Starfire's "freshly squeezed glorg" without any repercussions; who came up with more quips during a battle than _Robin_ did; who always, one way or another, managed to win the right to the last slice of pizza no matter which method of choosing was used.

Even when Cyborg tried to tip the table towards himself.

The girl who had _laughed_ at Beast Boy's feeble humour.

She had _never_ been that same girl again.

_That_ girl had died with Beast Boy on that day over fifteen years ago. Her careless and happy demeanour walked out on her and slammed the door; and guilt and despair slipped in through the crack beneath it and settled in her instead. There was not a day that went past where she didn't sit alone in the dark and ask herself _why_ she had ever thrown their friendship back in their faces; _why_ she had helped Slade to take and destroy the city, and the cities that came after.

_Why _she had walked away from the only person who had ever truly _loved_ her.

Nightwing hadn't loved her. He had tolerated her amiably; he had pitied her for her mistakes; he had respected her for her strength and her desire to repent for her sins; he had liked her as a friend.

But he hadn't _loved_ her.

_Roy_…?

He had kissed her. He had defended the action as being "in case they hadn't survived".

So what was he trying to tell her? That _he_ loved her?

"I know it must be hard for you," Roy was saying quietly. "To see her and remember…"

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I said it was okay." She sighed. "I know… that it's hard for you too…"

"_Me_? What's hard for me?" Roy sounded genuinely surprised.

"Everything… All of our friends' deaths, and Bruce the way he is… _me_ not trusting you enough to tell you about…"

Roy waved his hand dismissively.

"Don't sweat about that. I know it was… difficult for you. You were afraid and… it's okay. Really. I don't blame you for it."

"You _should_."

"But I _don't_." Roy turned her to face him, his grip on her shoulders tightening when she resisted. "I know you think I don't understand, and okay, you're right; I don't understand _everything_. I didn't know you as a teenager, not the way Dick did. You were part of _his_ team. So yeah, of course I can't expect to understand _everything_. But I understand more than you think, Terra. I know all the terrible things you have done and I understand how dreadful they must make you feel when you remember them. Forgive me for this lacking tact, Terra, but you _killed_ people. Good, strong, courageous people who were trying to save the world; you murdered the Justice League and countless others. You knew the Titans were going to die all those years ago and yet you did nothing to stop it. Of course I don't know exactly how that makes you feel, Terra, but I can _imagine_; and let me tell you, it doesn't feel too good. So I don't blame you for _anything_, T; I think you've been blamed for enough already."

He felt her stiffen in his grip and heaved a sigh.

"Well, you can tell me get out after that, Terra," he said quietly. "Maybe I said things there that I shouldn't have. But that's how I feel. No matter what you've done, you're a good person. You're strong and brave and had the strength to conquer yourself. You saved _yourself_, Terra, when no-one else _could_ have. It would have been so much easier for you to keep running further and further down the path of evil Slade had put you on, but you didn't; you turned back and fought your way back through the thorns that had grown behind you to block your path. I respect you for that, Terra. You might not respect _yourself_, but _I_ do. I hope you can understand that..."

There was a period of brittle silence that hung between them for a few seconds; and then—

Terra threw her arms around Roy's shoulders and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I love you, Roy," she whispered, tearing up.

He hugged her back.

"I know. I love me too…"

She looked up at him, frowning.

"But that doesn't mean I want to sleep with you, so don't go getting any ideas…"

Roy grinned.

"Ah, the night is still young, my beautiful earth-mover…"

"I mean it!"

"So it's platonic, then?"

"Right." She nodded. "Totally platonic."

His face fell.

"_Damn_…"

* * *

Poor Roy, nice try.

Next: Mucho Robin/Raven talkiness!

And stuff.

Happy Dan Aykroyd Day!

RR xXx


	30. Take the Long Way Home

OMG. It feels like I haven't updated in like a _century_… O.o

Sorry, guys! I feel rotten for leaving you all hanging. Heh, at least last chapter wasn't one of my nasty cliff-hangers…

Why haven't I updated? Well, the most prominent reason is that I was busy. I was in Disneyland Paris and then my co-writer Narroch was over here in Britain with me and then I was over in the USA with Narroch (yes, we were actually on the same side of the globe for once! It was awesome!) and we were busy trawling around London, seeing _Avenue Q_ and _The Lion King_ on the West End, and getting free chocolate at Cadbury World; and then in the US we were busy getting several Oreo MacFlurries, none of which I ever actually finished, and seeing **Weird Al Yankovic** live in concert (!) and going to anime and comic conventions and watching _Death Note_…

Wow. It was epic. And a lot of fun. And I became addicted to Big K grape soda. :)

Oh, and if you're ever on Facebook or whatever and you see snaps of cosplayers from the 2007 Wizard World Chicago Comic Con thing, and you come across two girls in "sexy no jutsu" Robin costumes… that's us:D There were people taking pictures of us left, right and centre – it was crazy…

_Anyway_. That was that. Then I came home and got my A Level grades and since they were pretty good (AAB) I got into Birmingham University to do English. Yay for me. So I'll be going there in… October, or something. I dunno. I have officially left Whitchurch High School. I'm sad - I actually liked it. :( Except the vending machines. They were not my friends. All I wanted was a normal Coca-Cola, but nooooooo. All they had was Coke Zero. WTF? AND it wouldn't give me my money back after I decided I didn't want Coke Zero...

And then… I dunno. I just didn't update. I actually got back from the US like two weeks ago, so there goes that excuse… I kept procrastinating, like "Oh, I'll do it tomorrow", and then I never did…

Go figure.

Oh, and I strayed into the _Death Note_ section, but that's another story entirely… We stayed up _all night_ to watch that thing after getting back from the anime con and I think it must have affected my brain or something… Or maybe that was just the sugar-high marshmallow-filled cereal at 4:30am…

It was great, though. _Death Note_, I mean.

And the cereal, too.

Take The Long Way Home

Robin took another deep shaky breath and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cold wall on which was painted the Virgin Mary. He was sitting on the cold stone floor of the altar, shivering, his leather outfit becoming increasingly uncomfortable as it slowly dried, tightening and creasing the way that wet leather does. The church was itself was silent and dark; outside, the storm raged on, torrential rain lashing against the partially boarded-up stained-glass windows and the rumble of the thunder (following the lightning that lit up the whole church) echoing right through the empty stone room.

He sat with his knees clutched to his chest, his feet flat on the floor; he could smell sweat and wet leather and _blood_ on himself. The rain had washed a lot of the blood away but it was still there, matted in his wet hair – which was flat and bedraggled from the weather – and there were still splashes splattered down his front and on his face and hands.

The thought of it mingled with the perfume of sweat and blood and leather made him feel sick.

He gave a sad, weary little groan and buried his face in his knees. He had never felt so torn up inside. Even the night on which his parents had fallen to their deaths hadn't left him so wrung out.

Because _he_ hadn't killed them.

He was a _murderer_. Yes, it had been Slade. Yes, Slade had done terrible things. Yes, the only way to end it had been _to_ kill him.

But murder was murder.

He didn't know how Terra could _live_ with herself…

"Robin? Are you _trying_ to give yourself pneumonia?"

He looked up sharply at the familiar sound of Raven's droll voice; she was standing over him, perfectly healed and perfectly awake.

"You're up?"

"Obviously." She looked down at him worriedly, her face shadowed by her hood. She watched him look at her swollen stomach and then quickly look away again with a small shudder. "You don't look very good."

"I'm not."

Raven knelt with some difficulty; she overbalanced due to her stomach and he caught her, pushing her upright again. She settled back and pulled down her crimson hood, her violet eyes wide with concern.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked her, veering away from her questioning of "What's wrong?" before she could even ask it.

"Yes. Well…" She looked down at her swollen abdomen in disgust. "… As well as can be expected, considering the… circumstances… I healed myself completely, if that's what you mean."

He nodded distractedly, not looking at her.

Her amethyst eyes narrowed. She knew nothing else of what had happened after Seth's defeat; and yet, she knew that other events had followed. Between her passing out in Wayne Enterprises and awaking _here_ just a few moments ago, something had happened.

She could read auras; and she had her suspicions. But she wanted Robin to _tell_ her himself.

"Well, I'll play my hand first," she ventured quietly. "Seth Elliott is gone, and _I_ take the blame for his death. You were barely awake, Robin… but I destroyed him. He's gone, and _believe_ me, he's _never_ coming back…"

Robin nodded jerkily in affirmation.

"Well, I expect he explained everything to you," Raven pressed on, attempting to draw him out from his self-piteous state. "Everything he _did_; that the "prophecy" was a set-up, a cover-up for a real prophecy that was created to stop him from accessing the powers – _his_ powers – sealed inside the Orb of Azarath by Azar. She put them there because he tried to take over Azarath with them over 700 years ago and ever since then he's been trying to get them back. He needed yours and Slade's souls for the ritual, so he fabricated _another_ prophecy loosely based the real one to draw you both in and manipulate you. Slade stole the Orb of Azarath from Jump City Museum after Seth had it sent to Earth _for_ that very purpose; he's a shape-shifter and appeared as a "seer" to Slade – the "seer" that Slade took all his orders from was really him, which is why Slade never actually ever _managed_ to kill you. As Head Senator Seth was able to control the movements of the Azarathian Senate, ensuring that they didn't interfere; when Jonathon Vaughan discovered his plan, Seth murdered him. Furthermore, Seth firstly had Slade rape you to make you an easy vessel for the demon minion which would carry his spawn; when the time was right he had Slade shoot that arrow into you, placing you under the possession. You developed wings, which was the cataclysm for my taking you to Azarath where he was able to put the rest of his plan into action. The demon deliberately controlled your hormones, we stupidly but uncontrollably slept together, I got pregnant with _Seth's_ child… but we thought it was _yours_, which is logical. We were summoned by Slade to a warehouse in East Jump City, where we – or, I should say, you and the others – were killed. He saved me and revived you after setting everything up so you would attempt to use the Clock of Eternity to travel back in time to save the Titans from dying, but he had tampered with the clock beforehand, taking out one of the gears which I found and gave to you and then _you_ traded it to _him_ for the Blood Diamond, which is actually the key to the Orb of Azarath, which you _smashed_… You were brought to _this_ time instead so that he could use you for the fulfilment of his prophecy. As things have turned out, his powers are now non-existent so no-one can use them, and Seth himself is _way_ out of here… but we still have the little matter of both getting back to our own time and righting the past so that the Titans don't die; _and_ dealing with Seth's child…"

"Life's a bitch and then you die," Robin muttered. "Like we didn't know _that_…"

"Shut up, Robin. I'll agree that _both_ of our lives haven't been too fantastic of late, but you're starting to become a little too cynical even for _my_ tastes…"

He looked away miserably.

"You have no idea what I've done…"

"I _do_ have an idea, actually."

His head jerked up, his masked eyes wide.

"Wh-?"

"Robin, you have blood all over you. I'm not _entirely_ stupid."

He looked away again sharply.

"I never said you _were_," he murmured. He shifted uncomfortably – Terra was right; this stuff _was_ murder drying on you.

Raven watched him.

"Robin, you're really being stupid," she reasoned eventually. "Wearing wet leather isn't going to do you any favours."

"What, you want me to strip it off right this second?" He snapped in return.

Raven scowled.

"Not particularly, although, in theory, you _should_. You're going to make yourself ill." Her scowl deepened when he didn't so much as look at her. "At least take the jacket off. You're making _me_ uncomfortable just looking at you."

"_Fine_!" He tugged the zip down aggressively and shrugged the jacket off with some difficulty. He threw it aside and curled up again. "_There_. You _happy_ now, Raven?"

"I won't be happy until we've sorted everything out, Robin; and even _then_…"

Trigon's daughter looked down at her stomach again and gave a tiny shiver.

"Yeah?" Robin looked at her, his masked eyes narrowed and angry. "Well, here's the score, Ray; _I'm_ a freakin' _murderer_."

He got up and walked away from her across the altar; he stopped at the broken table at which the priest would conventionally break the bread and bless it, presenting his back to her. She gazed long and hard at him, but he didn't turn around.

From the front he looked a wreck; his black hair was plastered to his face from the rain, his skin retained an orange stain from the blood that had almost-but-not-quite washed away, and overall he just looked weary and distressed. From the _back_ – which was all she could see of him – he suddenly looked as though he should be on a male clothing poster. Exactly like that; from the _back_. He looked… different. Stronger. More confident. His outfit was, of course, entirely black; his black boots from his uniform, black leather pants (which were wet, and didn't look as though they had been particularly comfortable in the first place), black belt slung across his slender hips, black high-necked Lycra shirt and black leather gloves. His hair (ebony too), from the back, wasn't nearly so messy; it was just straight down, shining with its wetness.

She watched him pulling off the gloves, tugging at them quite a bit because they had begun to wrinkle through drying. She tried to get up but it was too much effort for her in her present condition, so she merely wrapped herself in her Soul Self and reappeared behind him a moment later.

"You're _never_ going to get those pants off," she said flatly, watching him start in surprise at the nearness of her voice. He still didn't turn to her completely but he looked over his shoulder at her as he threw the gloves aside.

"Yeah? And how did Seth get _you_ into that dress, huh?" He asked nastily, his gaze leaving her face and moving down to her stomach. "A _crowbar_?"

She shrugged amiably.

"No idea. I woke up in it. I would imagine he did it by magic." A wry little smile crossed her face. "You're probably right, actually. There's no physical way I would actually have managed to squeeze into this dress." Her smile faded again as she looked down and rubbed one hand gingerly across her abdomen. "I'm _huge_…"

She looked up at him; he was still looking over his shoulder at her.

"It _has_ to go, Raven. No ifs or buts about it."

She looked at the floor.

"I know," she said softly. "It's just… _hard_…"

Robin finally turned to her, taking her elbows.

"You can't _still_ want it," he said half-incredulously.

She nodded slightly, her gaze still on the floor.

"I know it's difficult for you to understand, Robin," she told him quietly. "For me to want to allow a demon's child to live. But I… my mother… _I_…"

"_You're_ a demon's child. I know."

Her head jerked up and he was surprised at how _frightened_ she suddenly looked.

"How do you…? Who told-"

"Seth. He told us that you're the daughter of a demon named Trigon. I thought-"

Raven slapped a hand over his mouth to stop him; remembering half-afraid flashes that he once bore her warning marks, the Mark of Scath…

Surely he couldn't have taken some of her memories too; or was he really only going on Seth's words?

"Robin, you know things that you _shouldn't_," she hissed leaning right into him. "You know things that _no-one_ should know. So you can just keep your mouth _shut_, okay? Don't you _ever_ tell _anyone_ about my father, do you hear me?"

He nodded, still gagged by her hand, his eyes wide and shocked. She gazed hard at him for a few moments more; then released him and turned shakily away.

"I should have _known_ Seth would have something to do with this," she whispered blackly, more to herself. "Those days when I was with him, before he came to this time to "end" it all… that was all he crowed about. The heritage of the baby – _his_ child, _my_ child, _Trigon's grandchild_…"

"The days you were with him?" Robin repeated suspiciously.

Raven nodded, her back still to him.

"When we "died"… well, _I_ didn't. He placed a protection charm on me, so that the electrocution only knocked me out. I awoke in Azarath, dressed like _this_; he kept me in his quarters, which were completely sealed off by his magic. I couldn't get out by any means – either destroying it or using my Soul Self – and no-one but him could get in. So I was in Azarath the whole time and no-one ever knew. He did, of course, tell me all of his plans as soon as I was in a fit state to listen. I knew he was going to go to the future and knew what he would do when he got there because he told me; and likewise I knew that "prophecy" was a fake, just as I knew that the child was his. He told me _everything_, Robin; and he just kept squawking the whole time about how powerful the baby was going to be, and he kept calling me his queen…"

"He didn't… _did_ he?"

"What?" Raven's amethyst eyes widened as she caught on to what he was implying. "No, he never…he never touched me _that_ respect. He treated me very well, actually, considering he was technically holding me hostage. He's _always_ respected me, you know, Robin; _because_ I am Trigon's daughter. Not for any _other_ reason. And I think he was worried about hurting the baby if he was too rough with me so he didn't smack me around or anything…"

She gave a sudden little shudder.

"He kept taunting me, though," she whispered. "How Starfire and Beast Boy and Cyborg were dead; he kept describing how he was going to kill _you_… that you would be torn to pieces in the sacrificial portal… I was so scared for you… and I felt so desperate because I _knew_ what was going to happen and I couldn't do anything about it…"

She turned back to him.

"Where do we go from here, Robin?" She looked down at her swollen stomach. "I wouldn't say we're exactly _victorious_…"

"We _will_ be." He looked first at her, and then shifted his gaze to the floor. "But only… if you agree. To defeat Seth and his influence entirely… we must kill his child."

Raven was silent for a while.

"You know, I have to say that I'm not any more thrilled about the prospect of killing it than I was a few days ago when you suggested an abortion."

"Doesn't realising that it's Seth's change _anything_?" Robin asked incredulously.

"Robin… whether it's _your_ baby or his—"

"It's _his_."

"Whatever. You have to remember that _whoever_ the father is… _I'm_ still its mother. Learning that it's Seth's may change _your_ perspective, Robin, because you know it isn't _yours_; but no matter what, it's still _my_ baby. And I may not be the ideal mother type, and yes, I know that the baby isn't going to be… _human_. I _know_ it's going to be evil… But it's still my baby. You have to understand how that feels…"

"I _can't_, Raven. I admit that. I'm a _boy_; I'll _never_ know what it feels like." He shivered, looking at her stomach; trying to imagine what it must feel like to have another life growing inside you. "And I can't say I envy you…"

"_Me_ particularly, or females in general?"

"Both." He looked from her swollen stomach to his own completely flat one and shook his head; for the first time in his life extremely _glad_ that he would never have to go through what _she_ was. It was something he had never really thought about before, but suddenly he was extremely glad to be the _Boy_ Wonder.

Then he remembered that kick to the crotch and realised wearily that he just couldn't win.

"Well, I suppose I couldn't expect you to know how this feels," Raven said softly, placing both hands on her stomach. "I'm disgusted by it; I _hate_ being this way…"

"Pregnant?"

"Trust me, it _sucks_…"

"Like I said, I don't envy you at all."

"I wouldn't envy _myself_. It hurts, it's heavy and uncomfortable, and the feeling of it kicking just plain freaks me out…"

Robin imagined feeling something kicking him from inside his body and was extremely alarmed.

"And once again with the whole "not-envying-you" thing…"

"I know. And yet…" She rubbed a circle on her round stomach. "…I feel something _else_ underneath the disgust. I don't really _want_ the child, Robin; I can't imagine myself cuddling it and feeding it and rocking it to sleep. Even if it was _normal_ I still think I would feel this rejection of maternal nature. And yet… I still feel an urge to _protect_ it. Somewhere, deep within me, the thought of killing it makes me feel so… _empty_…"

"Raven…"

"I know, I _know_!" She snapped in distress. "I _know_ we can't let it live, okay? But as you said, _I_ am a demon's child too… and _I_ should never have been allowed to live…"

"Then why _do_ you?"

"Because my mother… was _weak_… She just couldn't kill me, and obviously neither could the Senate. Azar's way prohibits Azarathians from killing the weak and defenceless. _Babies_ obviously fall into that category… And so I was allowed to live, when I should never have been given the chance…"

"Don't say that," Robin replied, irritated. "_I'm_ glad they let you live…"

Raven gave a sad, rueful little smile, looking away.

"There may come a time when you _revise_ that opinion, Robin," she whispered; he heard her speak but didn't catch the actual words.

"What?"

"Nothing." She absently rubbed at her stomach again. "The point is I live because those around me were too weak and compassionate to do what had to be done. We have to ask ourselves if _we_ are going to make the same mistake."

Robin slipped the knife from the back of his belt and held it out to her. She shrank back from it, her expression alarmed.

"Where did you get _that_?" She demanded, her large violet eyes regarding it warily.

"I took it form Azarath," Robin admitted. "Brought it with me. Don't ask me why. But Marcus said this is the only thing that will kill Seth's child providing-"

"It'll kill _me_ as well!" Raven snapped. "You realise that, don't you? Those knives were created to destroy any traces of demonic beings in living creatures. Whole demon, half demon, quarter demon, you name it… If _you_ had had that thing stuck through you during your possession a few weeks back, _you_ would have died."

"I _know_," Robin spat. "Marcus has already told me all the history… He said that we had to come up with a protection spell or something, something that would protect _you_ from the blade but not the child…"

Raven clasped her hands together, resting her chin on them.

"You know, that might actually… but it would take one hell of a spell… nothing that I know off by heart…"

"Marcus said that it would be some kind of "ritual spell", whatever that is…"

"A _method spell,_" Raven rephrased, not looking up. "We got the demon out of you using one of those. You have to follow a certain set of rules or instances before reciting the actual spell."

"Like…?"

"Like… maybe… I don't know, dancing naked around a tree five times and… setting fire to a branch before you recite the spell…"

"You think _I'm_ dancing naked around a tree, you have another thing coming, Raven."

"It was just an example."

"Marcus suggested perhaps Wicca, or—"

"There is a _lot_ of dancing naked around trees involved in Wicca; it's called "working skyclad"."

"Forget Wicca," Robin said hastily. "What do you suggest?"

"Azarathian magic, I suppose," Raven said vaguely. "We can find something in my books…"

Robin nodded, putting the end of the silver blade in his mouth absently.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to put knives in your mouth?" Raven asked him irritably.

He withdrew it, his expression droll.

"_You're_ beginning to _act_ like a mother. Snap out of it."

She sighed deeply.

"I'm trying… it's _hard_…"

"Look, I appreciate how difficult this is for you, Raven," he began, twirling the knife around his fingers. "And I really-"

"Will you put that _away_ before you slice your fingers off!" Raven snapped. "That's a very dangerous knife, Robin. Stop fooling about with it."

He mimicked her with his hand as he slipped the knife back into one of the leather sheathes at the back of his belt. Infuriated, she felt it was time to bring him down again. Maybe out of cruelty; maybe just because she was pissed off with him.

She was also stressed by the recent developments in this entire equation; the thought of killing her unborn child was not a pleasant one, demon or not. She also wasn't back to her full strength and pregnancy – especially being _this_ pregnant – wasn't exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

"So, spill it, Robin," she said, folding her arms just above her bump. "What are you all mopey about?"

As she had predicted, that soured him immediately.

"I thought you said you _knew_," he replied jerkily, turning away to give her another good view of his back.

"I said I had a _pretty good idea_." She felt guilty about bringing this subject up now; because she _did_ have a pretty good idea. She could sense how distressed he was about it – how guilty _he_ felt about what he had done. "But I don't _know_. I need you to tell me, Robin."

"What, you haven't read my mind by now?"

"I respect your privacy, Robin. I wouldn't intrude into your mind when I know that you don't want me to."

"Just to set the record, I _don't_ want you in there right now."

"I figured that…"

"Well…" He leaned his head back and rubbed his face with both hands. "I… _killed_ someone…"

"So did I. _Seth_, remember?"

"It's not the same…"

"Isn't it?" Raven unfolded her arms, her voice suddenly softening. "Murder is murder, Robin…"

"And murder is _wrong_."

"Not… not _always_… Not if… you're saving _other_ lives by doing it…"

"They don't blame me," Robin said quietly. "They're… _proud_ of me. For _killing_. Even Bruce… said it was a _good_ thing…"

"Bruce?"

"The Bruce of _this_ time. He said… I had saved the world…"

"Robin, you probably _did_…"

"This _time_ is… _ruined_, Raven. I'm not sure if his death even _matters_ anymore…"

He looked at his hands; as though he expected to see blood. There was nothing there, of course, although there was still blood on his discarded gloves. He rubbed them together anyway; and Raven was reminded of Lady Macbeth.

Scrubbing at blood that wasn't _there_.

"Well… do you blame _me_ for destroying Seth?" She asked him. "If that's how you feel about killing…? Do you think _I'm_ a murderer too?"

"No."

She cut in front of him, her gaze hard and defiant.

"And why not?" She challenged him. "I _killed_ him, didn't I? Does that not make us _both_ murderers?"

"You did a good thing…"

"And you _didn't_?"

"You don't know _what_ I did!" Robin spat, pushing her aside. She smacked his hand away angrily.

"Don't _push_ me!"

"Then leave me _alone_!"

He exhaled heavily and turned sharply away from her again, folding his arms. For a long while there was painful silence between them—

"_Slade_, okay? I killed him. The Slade of _this_ time."

"I thought so."

Robin put his head in his hands.

"Then why are you _torturing_ me like this?"

"Robin, I know coming to terms with the fact that you have killed someone isn't easy, no matter how much you despised him or what he did. You think _I_ feel _good_ about killing _Seth_? I grew up in Azarath under his rule as Head Senator; I liked him and I trusted him… and I had to _kill_ him. You think that makes me _happy_?"

"_You're_ so much better at dealing with things that go wrong," Robin sighed. "You just manage to take everything in your stride, Raven, no matter what happens. I can't do that. I'm not like you."

"I've been taught to manage my emotions," Raven replied softly. "That's the _only_ reason, Robin."

"Must make things easier…"

She shrugged.

"Sometimes…"

"Well, I'm _not_ like you. I can _hide_ what I'm feeling, sure; but I can't _shut_ my emotions off."

"I think I'm one of the few people who _can_."

"Then how can you _possibly_ know how I feel?" Robin snapped. "They all say it's _okay_; that I did a _good_ thing. But killing _isn't_ okay, Raven; I've always been taught that it's _wrong_. By my parents, by Bruce… _murder isn't okay_… What I did… was _wrong_…"

"But the lesser of two evils."

He looked over his shoulder at her in puzzlement.

"Robin, do you truly believe you could have just let him go? After everything he's done to this world?"

"How do you-?"

"I know enough, believe me. Seth was gloating, of course. He found the destruction to this future world hilarious…"

Robin looked away again.

"At the time… it felt like killing him was the _only_ way… the gun was in my hand and I… it _seemed_ right…"

"It _was_ right. Not only did you save _this world_ from him… you saved him from _himself_…"

"What, by blowing his brains five square metres across the basement of Wayne Enterprises?" Robin asked sardonically.

"Robin, I _saw_ him when Seth brought me to this future. The man wasn't all there. Killing him was probably a mercy…"

"That still doesn't make it right."

"Well, what are you going to do, huh?" Raven asked him mockingly. "Turn yourself in? Go looking for someone to punish you for an action the police would do _anyway_? Who is going to arrest you, Robin? There is no law enforcement here; Slade's destruction was his own undoing. He pulled the walls of society and law and order down and left himself cornered. There was only life or death for him; no prison, no punishment. He either ruled over everyone in a reign of tyranny, or he died. If _you_ hadn't killed him, someone _else_ would have. Roy, Terra, one of the gangsters… He was living on borrowed time. I hardly see what _difference_ it makes."

"The difference is that _I'm_ a _murderer_!"

"You're _selfish_, is what you are," Raven replied coldly. "You killed Slade; you've saved lives and you've gotten rid of the one thing that was holding this world down. Now, _because_ of you, this time can hopefully flourish again. But you won't _acknowledge_ that, will you? All you care about are your own feelings; you're too busy whining about how guilty you feel to realise that you've helped every single person in this city and every one beyond it. Killing him might not seem to _you_ like it was the right thing to do; not the kind of thing a _hero_ should do. But let me tell you, Robin… it's probably about the most heroic thing you've ever _done_…"

"I don't know why I'm even _listening_ to this," Robin spat, throwing his arms up in disgust. He walked away from her, leaving the altar to stalk away down the broken filthy aisle of the church.

"Where are you going?" Raven called after him irritably.

"Away from _you_ and your lectures!" He snapped back, making his way down to the back of the church.

He didn't see her eyes glow white. He didn't see her enshroud herself in her Soul Self and vanish from the altar.

He _did_ see her reappear right in front of him, drawing her black shadow-like spectral self back.

"_Will you leave me alone_?" He hissed, swinging away from her and going back the way he had just come.

She snatched after him, catching his arm and pulling at him.

"Robin, this isn't-"

She interrupted herself with a sharp little cry as he tugged his arm out of her grip, causing her to lose her balance. She tripped on the hem of her dress, fell into him and dragged the both of them to the floor. By instinct, her first thought was to protect her bump, but as it happened she landed on top of Robin anyway; his poor bruised body breaking her fall.

Unfortunately, a broken piece of the stone floor – jutting upwards – broke the fall of his head; he cracked the back of his skull on it, practically being knocked unconscious.

"Are you okay?" Raven asked him worriedly, shifting her position on him so that the weight of her stomach didn't rest entirely on him. She felt as big as a bus and just as heavy, and knew that sprawling on top of him wasn't going to do his scrawny frame any favours.

He lifted his head with a groan, putting a hand to the back of his skull. It came back streaked with blood.

She watched him pale further (he was near-white anyway at the moment) at the sight of it. Not because he was squeamish – it was just that the _last_ thing he wanted to see on his hands at the moment was _blood_…

She employed her Soul Self again, taking both of them into it; it drew back to place them on one of the partially-rotten wooden church benches. He slouched up against her, moaning, only half-conscious from that knock to the head. She knew that he was aching elsewhere from the fight with Slade that had preceded the madman's murder; although was, of course, hiding it.

Sitting down, she felt better – the weight of the baby made her feet and back ache when standing – and felt strong enough to try to heal him; placing two fingers at each of his temples, she closed her violet eyes and muttered her mantra, drawing the pain out of him into her and then dispelling it. There was more of it than she had first thought – bruising that she obviously couldn't see through his clothing – and she squeezed her eyes shut in concentration, feeling sweat bead on her forehead as she slowly but surely dragged the last of his injuries out of him, including the fresh one to the back of his head.

She removed her fingers and sat back from him with a gasp, wiping her forehead. Next to her, he straightened up, feeling much better.

At least _physically_.

"Do me a favour, Robin," Raven muttered, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Stop getting the hell beaten out of you… Healing you takes a lot out of _me_…ealing hhhhhhhh"

"Does it _hurt_ to heal people?"

"_Yes_!"

He looked at her, wide-eyed.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" He asked softly.

"Tell you what?"

"That it _hurt_s" He snapped. "All this time, I've been letting you heal the team… and you never said a word. If I'd realised it _hurt_ you to heal us I wouldn't have let you…"

"…Which is why I didn't _tell_ you." She looked fiercely away from him, one hand on her stomach. "What did he do to you, anyway? Must have hurt like…"

"He kicked me real hard in the crotch."

She was both female and not exactly the most sympathetic person in the world; but even _she_ winced in empathy.

"_That_ must have hurt…"

"I couldn't even begin to describe it. But that's probably why it hurt so much to heal me. Hell if I know how much bruising he caused me down there…"

"It's gone. No long-term damage, so don't worry. You'll knock up more girls yet…"

"It's not _mine_."

"It's still your fault…"

"He put an _indulgence demon_ in me!"

She had no argument for that short of muttering something at him in Azarathian. He ignored her, leaning back and folding his arms. For another long while there was silence between them.

"Are you going to be okay?" She asked him finally, looking at the cracked, filthy floor of the church.

He shrugged.

"I'll live…"

"You shouldn't bottle things up, Robin…"

"I bottle, seal _and_ gift-wrap…"

"Uh-huh…" She turned her gaze on him. "You think it makes you a stronger person? Not letting anyone know how you feel? Not letting anyone know what you're thinking or doing?"

"It's better that way. At least you can't drag others down with you…"

"But you _know_ it doesn't always work like that!" Raven snapped. "What about your plan to stop Slade, huh? Pretending to be Red X? Look where that got you! You only handed him more ammunition against you…"

"Yeah?" He asked venomously. "If you're talking about the apprentice thing, that was his plan all along…"

"But you helped him! By not telling _us_, you _helped_ him, Robin! You said you didn't tell us that it was you under that mask to protect _us_. But when Slade figured that out, he only used it _against_ you! He blackmailed you into working for him… by threatening _us_… "

"And who made _you_ the expert, huh?" He demanded angrily. "_You_ didn't even figure it out; _Starfire_ did!"

"I knew it was you, Robin…"

He started at her with his mouth open, floored.

"Wh… h-how?"

Raven looked at him boredly.

"I can sense auras. Trust me, I knew it was you…"

Again he was speechless for a few moments.

"And you… didn't tell?"

"I didn't say a word and you _know_ it."

"_Why_?"

"Because I _trusted_ you. I knew it was for a good cause and I… _I_ thought it was going to work too…" She looked away from his piercing gaze. "But believe me, if I'd known how badly it would backfire on you, I wouldn't have let you do it…"

"You'd have split on me?"

"If I had realised that Slade would not _only_ figure it out but use it _against_ you, yes," Raven said quietly. "You know, all we wanted to do was help you, but you take everything Slade-related so much to heart that there's no getting through to you. We had to accept being pushed away because we knew we wouldn't get any closer."

"Did you know about the probes he put inside you?"

"Don't be stupid," Raven said irritably. "Do you think we would have _fought_ you if we _had_ known?"

"Guess not…" He looked intently at the floor. "None of it matters, anyway…"

"I suppose not…" Raven sighed heavily. "But about the shooting-"

"I _don't_ want to talk about it, Raven!"

"And there you go _again_!" Raven snapped in exasperation. "Robin, you _can't_ keep isolating yourself like this…"

"_You_ do," he pointed out sullenly.

"That's different," she argued wearily. "Believe me, Robin… you have no idea…"

"Then _tell_ me!"

"I can't. You _will_ know… you will, but I… I _can't_ tell you…"

"Why not?"

"I… just _can't_…" She looked back at him, her eyes shining with tears she could not allow to fall. "Robin, I _would_ tell you. I _want_ to, and I trust you maybe more than anyone else… but I just _can't_… There are things about me, things _in_ me… that no-one should ever see or know…"

She pulled her crimson hood up as though suddenly hiding from him.

"I hide my feelings… because I _have_ to," she whispered. "But _you_ don't. You're _able_ to ask for the help you need… it pains me so much that you _won't_. Why suffer when there is no need for it? I don't understand you…"

"You'd rather be _me_?" He sounded incredulous.

"I would say yes, but I wouldn't wish _my_ existence on anyone else," she murmured in reply. "If _I_ was _you_, then _you_ would have to be _me_… or _someone_ would, anyway…"

"And what's so bad about that?" His gaze moved to her stomach; and then he averted it to the ceiling in disgust. "Apart from having to… carry that _thing_ around inside you…"

"The word is "baby", Robin. Practice saying it."

"Baby my ass," he muttered darkly in response. "More like Spawn of Evil..."

"And if it was _yours_ it would be Spawn of Arrogant Jerk," Raven replied cuttingly.

She was irritable anyway; pregnancy was a _foul_ affliction, and _Robin_ was often not the best remedy for a mood that was already dark. Sometimes he was an extremely deep, understanding and wise person; and sometimes he was really, like… _not_. Sometimes he was incredibly easy to talk to, and other times it felt – at least to her – like he was speaking another language to her. Sometimes he was extremely easy to get along with, and at others he was difficult to even deal with.

It wasn't because he was male and she was female. It wasn't because he was fully human and she was part-demon. It wasn't even because he had watched his parents fall to their deaths over eight years ago – something she could offer no comparison to.

It was because he was… well, _Robin_.

They were alike. Deep calls to deep, like calls to like, and _dark_ calls to _dark_. Yes, they were alike—

But not so alike that she truly _understood_ him.

Or vice versa.

"Don't mouth off about things that you don't understand, Robin," she told him quietly, clasping her hands together on her lap. "And believe me, you _don't_ understand what you're talking about…"

"Then why can't you just _tell_ me?"

"Just _trust_ me." She looked up at him, her amethyst eyes piercing. "Like _I_ trusted _you_."

He shook his head, showering a small sprinkling of water from his hair onto her.

"I can't just accept that," he told her, his tone determined. "What if I can-?"

"_Help_?" Raven cut him off with a wan smile. "You can't. Trust me on that too…"

"You could at least let me _try_."

"No. I couldn't. Will you just _leave_ it, please?"

"Raven, we can't afford to keep hiding things from each other…"

"Then why are _you_?" Raven asked him coldly. "Robin, if you keep locking everything away – all of your past, everything you feel and _need_… you're going to _destroy_ yourself… Like you said yourself, you aren't designed to shut off your emotions. Human being _aren't_."

He looked at the cracked floor, twisting his long fingers together.

"It's so much easier to keep quiet…"

"I know that." She finally pulled her hood down again. "I _know_ it is, Robin. But silence doesn't get rid of pain; and there is so much pain _already_ in the world. I don't understand why you willingly keep things to yourself when you have people around you who both love you and are willing to listen. There are so many people who would give anything for that and don't have it."

"Raven, if I want to listen to a "Be-grateful-for-what-you've-got" speech, there are plenty of other places I could go to hear it…"

"Well…" Raven sighed heavily. "Just tell _me_ then. You don't have to go to counsellor or a therapist… Just tell me and then maybe you'll feel better."

"Doubt it."

"You won't know until you try…"

"Alright, _fine_!" He clenched his fists on his knees. "I _killed_ him, okay? I got the gun and I _shot_ him. Right in the chest, and his _blood_ splattered right in my _face_, and then I ran outside and _heaved_ my _guts_ and _still_ feel, even _now_, like I need to puke…"

"Why do you feel like that? Because you're squeamish? Because you didn't like the sound of the gun?"

She baited him gently and subtly, drawing his inner anguish to the surface.

"BECAUSE IT WAS FUCKING _WRONG_, THAT'S WHY!" He screamed at her, standing up and whirling to face her, his fists clenched and his face tense and white. "Bruce… murder is _bad_… that's what Bruce always said… and _his_ parents, and _my_ parents… _my parents were murdered_…"

He sank back onto the bench, all of the venom in his voice drained out of it. He buried his face in his hands.

"_My parents were murdered too_…" he whispered again through his fingers. She saw a few tears drip through them and spatter on the cracked stone floor. "My… they'd… be so _ashamed_ of me_… I let them down_…"

He burst into tears; those little sniffles becoming aching ragged sobs and wails of real anguish. Slightly alarmed at the reaction her gentle provocation had achieved, Raven reached for him, putting her arms around him. At her touch he leaned against her, burying his face in her shoulder and sobbing into her hood. She put one hand to his back and the other gently at the back of his head, toying with his strands of his damp black hair between her slender fingers, and just allowed him to cry and cry and cry.

She knew he didn't just cry for the "blood" that stained his hands; he cried for _her_ – impregnated, as her own mother had been, with the child of a terrible being – and he cried for the Titans – stone cold dead as they were – and he cried for this future world and he cried for his parents and he cried for himself; for the rape and for the demonic possession and for the discovery of his role in Seth's prophecy; not in that important role – the _Avenger_ – he had believed to be _his_, but merely as a vessel and a sacrifice…

She rocked him until the sobs began to ease away; she was, in truth, an individual of few words, and yet could somehow comfort _without_ them. He felt glad to be in her arms, although not for sexual reasons, nor for personal ones.

Simply because she was _Raven._

As much as he loved Starfire and her mad little ways, a mouthful of the Pudding of Sadness was _not_ his idea of being comforted.

It was amusing to watch Beast Boy's reaction to having it forced down his throat, though.

His hysterical tears died away eventually; crying certainly worked wonders, particularly if you didn't cry very often, as he didn't. Well, he had perhaps been crying a lot _recently_, but it wasn't, he reasoned, like he didn't have anything to cry _about_…

"Feel better?" She asked him drolly.

He scowled.

"Don't tell me you're gonna hold this against me," he spat.

Raven smiled slightly.

"Hey, I need to gather all the ammunition I can get…"

"What, you have little files on all of us?"

"Something like that…"

"Beast Boy's is the thickest file, right? Metaphorical or otherwise?"

"Who else?" She muttered.

"Star?"

"Starfire doesn't _deliberately_ annoy me; therefore, Beast Boy will always be at the top of my vendetta list…"

"Mm…" He turned his head and nuzzled against her shoulder, still leaning up against her; he wiped his face dry with his hand, feeling her pat the back of his head absently.

He was vaguely unnerved by how… _motherly_… she was being.

"Is that all you have to tell?" She asked him softly. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"No…"

He did, of course, have his secrets – and she knew and respected that, as did _he_ in regards to her. There were things he wouldn't ever tell to _anyone_. He _knew_ she knew that.

However… there was that one other… deep, dark, _dirty_ little secret, wasn't there? Back then, in Arkham Asylum, preceding the rape, he and Slade had…

_Seth_. It had been Seth's doing – he had _forced_ them to do it, controlling their will, all for his own _amusement_…

Somehow, he knew that she sensed this secret – for no, he had told _no-one_. He was so scared and ashamed and embarrassed about it. Admittedly… maybe he _was_ a little bit of a homophobe…

…But between him and Slade on that horrific night, it hadn't really been _true_ homosexuality, for neither of them had _wanted_ to do it. Neither of them had even _liked_ each other that way.

Knowing now that it had been Seth's doing didn't make it any easier. It didn't change the fact – willingly or not – that he and his most hated enemy (the man that he had _killed_ in hot blood) had touched each other; removed their masks and kissed, stroked and nuzzled and fidgeted with clothing. He had run his fingers through Slade's hair as the man had, in return, slid his hand first up Robin's scarlet shirt onto his belly, then moved it downwards, brushing between his legs…

Robin burned now at the memory of Slade's hand slipping between his thighs. He grasped a handful of Raven's cloak and buried his face in it, knowing that his face was flushing crimson.

He hoped she wasn't reading his mind.

He had not become aroused by that touch, but still, being stroked between the legs by your (male) enemy was being stroked between the legs by your (male) enemy. There were no two ways about it; no other way of looking at it.

It had haunted him ever since he had regained his senses and kicked Slade off him. He had known, right from the start, that _something_ had been controlling the both of them (that something being Seth), and while that alone had terrified him, the action itself just plain freaked him out. Sometimes the memory of it would slither utterly unwelcome into his head when his mind was just happily wandering; perhaps when he sat down on the bench in the gym for a breather and a drink following a rigorous martial arts workout, or when he was reading and his eyes began to become tired and would stray from the page. It would slide in through the cracks in his denial and settle there, and he would shiver and gasp and try to force it from his head.

He would remember _that touch_ and be disgusted by himself; perhaps sitting on the bench, he would look down at his own crotch and remember that _Slade_ had touched it through that same spangly green material and would want to get up and walk out of his own body. It made him feel so filthy and used to remember it; as though he was a whore that stood on those notorious street corners and beckoned wryly, flirting with his eyes, to the men with pockets stuffed with crisp green bills.

The _rape_ haunted him in other ways. At least he had _fought_; kicked and cried and screamed and cursed. Slade had raped him anyway, drawing blood and shrieks of agony from the boy held down beneath him.

But Robin had not _agreed_ to it. He had not _returned_ it.

Making out with someone and being _raped_ by them were two completely different things.

It snaked its way into his dreams too; little glimpses. They were not wet dreams, for they did not pleasure him. He would snap awake, gasping and panting, clutching at his sheets in utter panic. They frightened him as much as his dreams of rape and becoming like Slade did…

"Robin?"

Raven's level voice cut into his thoughts. He shivered a little.

"What?"

"I know… there's something you've been… _keeping_ from us… I haven't pried, by the way. I don't know what it is, I have just sensed a burdening secret about you for a while now. Something to do with… _what he did to you_…"

He squirmed in her grip, squeezing his eyes shut.

"It's nothing…"

"If it's nothing, why have you been having nightmares about it?"

His head jerked up, his eyes snapping open.

"You _do_ know!" He said angrily, flushing red again.

"I don't. I don't know _what_ happened, or _what_ you dream about. I just know that it haunts you and keeps you awake…" Raven frowned at the disgusted look he was giving her. "My powers are empathic, Robin; I can sense these things, even though I may not understand them…"

He dipped his head again.

"Believe me, talking about it isn't going to help…" he muttered miserably.

"So…" With a wry smile he didn't see, she moved into the opening. "_It_… is kinda a big thing, if even _talking_ about it isn't going to help…"

He sighed deeply, walking into the trap.

"You could say that…"

"I thought it was _nothing_?"

He gave a sharp, tiny gasp; then looked up at her, thoroughly irked.

"You disgust me," he deadpanned.

Her wry smile deepened.

"Looks aren't everything…"

He blinked; then wrinkled his nose.

"You're acting _really_ weird, you know that?"

"It's called being pregnant." She stroked his hair soothingly. "Are you going to tell me?"

"No," he said fiercely. "It's _nothing_, okay? Nothing I can't handle…"

"Alright, alright, I'm not going to push," she sighed. "Maybe I can drug you up or something…"

"Seth's already pulled that one on me…"

"Believe me, he's not going to be drugging anyone up where _I_ have sent him…"

Robin gave a yawn, growing suddenly extremely tired. He snuggled against her; again, the action was not sexual. He just felt extremely comforted by her presence, and in this rare sensitive mood she was just the cure he needed. Perhaps it was the fact that she was pregnant, but she suddenly seemed extremely maternal – she was suddenly a lot softer physically, too. The Raven he was used to (and of course he knew how she felt, having slept with her twice and making out with her more than that…) was little, lithe and firm to the touch; she was just generally not quite as curvy as Starfire and therefore her body was flatter, harder, more angular. Her breasts were smaller and her hips were flatter – she was still shapely enough, but it was not as prominent as Starfire, who simply oozed stereotypical sex appeal.

However, pregnancy – and as horrific and monstrous a pregnancy it was – appeared to have blossomed her; no more was she that haggard, gaunt spectacle of only a few days before. Because the pregnancy was progressing at an absolutely alarming rate, its effect on _her_ was too; "Raven" and "radiant" were two words never normally associated with one another, but it was true that she had flowered because of it. Her eyes were brighter, her icy-pale skin seemed to glow and she had even put on a little bit of weight in all the right places so that her figure was suddenly much fuller.

Her swollen stomach creeped him out, but other than that he had to admit that this was probably the most beautiful he had ever seen her. And seeing how she was not usually a cuddly person (she hated to be hugged) he decided he might as well take advantage of how sweet she was being.

No doubt by the morning she would have soured up again; her hormones were racing up and down within her like a yo-yo. So he curled his legs up on the bench and wriggled to get more comfortable. The pants were beginning to get extremely tight and uncomfortable but relieving himself of them would mean leaving to go take them off, putting on his spandex ones and then coming back, by which time the mood would have been spoiled.

One hand was still at his lower back, the other behind his head, and he gave a little sigh. It wasn't really a happy one, nor was it contented; but it was _comforted_. He lay there, lost in thought, his head on her shoulder against her neck, using the bunched material of her crimson cloak as a pillow. His stomach was pressed against the large curve of hers and with distant discomfort he realised that he could feel signs of life against his own belly because of the contact. He felt the little jerk of a tiny kick, or the flexing and stretching of the little (_monstrous, foul, demonic,_ he reminded himself) body within her.

He shivered and looked up at her. She was drowsing too, her amethyst eyes nearly closed and her head against the back of the bench. Her violet hair shone brilliantly in the dull flickering light of the candles lighting up the church.

"Do you feel that?" He asked her quietly.

"Of course." She raised her head, opening her eyes. "Why, can you?"

"Mm. I'm sorry, I'm pressed right up against you… Do you want to me to move away? I know you like your personal space and everything…"

"It's alright," she replied softly. "Just for tonight, I don't mind. But don't get used to it…"

"Doesn't it freak you out?" Robin pressed, ignoring her last shoot-down; feeling another kick. "It's freaking _me_ out and it's not even inside me."

"It _is_ a bit freaky," she murmured in agreement. She rolled her eyes as she felt him shift distractedly so that his stomach wasn't against hers. "Will you _quit_ that? You can go on the floor if you're going to be such a pest…"

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just can't get my head around it… that there's a living thing _inside_ you. It's a _parasite_!"

"Robin, welcome to the wonderful world of human reproduction. And as for it being a parasite… _you_ were a "parasite" in _your_ mother's body, as was I in mine, and so was Cyborg, and Beast Boy, and _presumably_ Starfire, although I am not _quite_ sure how Tamaraneans reproduce… I _assume_ it is in a similar fashion to us. The point I am making is that if everyone had the same opinion as _you_, the human race would have died out long ago…"

"Maybe…" He sighed against her neck. "You… you _don't_ still _love_ me, do you?"

"Define "love"."

"As in the "desperate-to-unbuckle-my-belt-and-get-into-my-pants" sort of thing…"

"You may or may not be relieved to hear that… yes, it's true. I am no longer desperate to get into your pants."

He sensed the dry humour in her voice and frowned.

"I'm serious."

"I know. Robin… I _do_ love you, of course I do. You're one of my best and… _only_ friends…"

"You have more friends than just me!" He pointed out indignantly.

"Right, that would be Cyborg, Beast Boy and Starfire… that's three more. I have _four_ friends in the whole wide world. That's not really very many, is it?"

"That isn't true…"

"It is, and you know it. I'm not the make-friends-with-everyone sort, Robin; not like Beast Boy and Starfire. And _Terra_ is _certainly_ not my friend. Never was, never will be. I am only friends with people I trust – and unfortunately I have found time and time again that I am only able to trust the same four people…" Raven heaved a deep sigh, running a hand across her belly. "I should not love, but I do. I love you, and I love our other friends. _You_ maybe most of all because of all we have been through – if anything, Robin, I know I can trust _you_. We have… some kind of _bond_… But _sexually_… alright, listen up, because I am only going to say this once. I like you; I always have. From that first moment I saw you I knew there was something special about you, and I knew even then, before I had even said one word to you, that I would be able to trust you. I sense a darkness in you that is in me too; burdens and secrets that you may not share, pain that you hide. I was attracted to you _because_ of that. You getting this? I _did_ like you right from the start, alright?"

He nodded obediently.

"Okay, well, this is where it starts to go off the rails. Let's just say what I _really_ am… disallows me to feel pleasure or love – they are emotions so intense and unbridled there was always the possibly that I would be unable to handle them and so I was forbidden from ever feeling them. Therefore… I never allowed any feelings I might have had for you to blossom. I _couldn't_. What had been an original liking became whittled down to a little speck of grit, and then I crushed that too. It pained me to do so, but I knew what had to be done, and so I crushed those feelings just as I had crushed any other loving feelings before it. And then Starfire… she obviously likes you, you know… Look how jealous she was when that Kitten girl showed up on the scene… And don't deny it, Robin; _you_ have feelings for _her_ too."

He shrugged and looked away.

"A little…"

"Don't feel guilty. Those feelings for Starfire… they are your _own_. You don't love _me_, Robin, at least not sexually – you never _have_. But Seth _needed_ you to, to draw me out, get me to put my utmost trust in you… So he _forced_ you to love me. Those times when you caught yourself thinking about Starfire; remember the time you kissed her, or that time you "betrayed" me and made out with her? Those were _your_ feelings; those were the times Seth got sloppy and let his hold over you relinquish a little… As for me, I'm sure he told you that he was unable to control my mind. But he has a Soul Self of his own, and so he told me that he used it to cloak himself to wander around the Tower. He put things into my tea and my food – potions, powders, spells. All this time I have really and truly _lusted_ after you, Robin… I have been drugged up…" She gave a little shiver. "I should have asked what he gave me that night we…" Another shudder; remembering that she had _actually_ put his… in her _mouth_ and… sucked and licked… "Actually, maybe I don't _want_ to know…"

"I'm sorry… you know, about… what happened…"

She snorted.

"It's not like it was _your_ fault… _I_ was drugged with Azar-knows-what, _you_ were not _only_ possessed by an indulgence demon, but you're also a teenaged boy with an unfair amount of horniness anyway, _and_ he was forcing you to love me… I don't think it was possible for _anyone_ to have refused in _that_ state…"

"I know, but…" He sighed deeply. "It wasn't just _once_, it was _twice_… _and I took your virginity too…_"

"_I_ took _yours_."

"It's not the same. It matters more to girls than boys. It doesn't bother me that you took mine, but I'm sorry I took yours."

"That doesn't make any sense…"

"I thought you would have wanted to lose it to someone you love. Properly, I mean. Like maybe the guy you'll marry or something…"

She gave a snort of uncharacteristic laughter.

"_Not_ going to happen…" She gave him another little pat on the head. "Besides, as I said… I _do_ love you. It might be more platonic now than anything, given that Seth's control has worn off with his death, but… I _am_ glad… that it was _you_."

He looked up.

"Really?"

"Really. Both of those times, and all the times we kissed, made out in your room, my room, assorted closets… they might have been fabricated and fake. But for what it's worth… I _enjoyed_ them. In your arms and under your lips, I felt… _different_. _More_. You made me feel… _special_… and _loved_ – two things I had never had in Azarath. Growing up in Azarath, although it is a beautiful place and I had my acquaintances, like Jonathon and Marcus… I was always made to feel like the outcast. The freak; because they are secretly afraid of me, every last one of them. I was never truly _loved_, not even by my own _mother_, because they did not want to encourage me to return those feelings. I was treated with the respect and kindness you saw when we were there the other week… but none of them _love_ me, Robin. They have trained themselves not to. But _you_… you never made me feel like that. You always made me feel so… _wanted_." She stroked his hair affectionately. "Forgive me if I can only thank you for that. Seth might have been the one controlling your actions, but it was still _your_ words, _your_ kiss, _your_ body that made me feel that way. So, yes, Robin – I _do_ love you. More than I _should_, but less than I _did_. Does that make sense?"

"So…" He frowned. "Basically… you don't want to sleep with me?"

"Right. As for kissing… maybe under the mistletoe at Christmas if you're lucky, and don't get used to the hugging either…"

"I'm already mentally preparing myself for your usual wrath tomorrow…" He smiled, glad that that little matter had been cleared up. "I'll miss our closet make-out sessions. I never realised we _had_ so many closets until we made it our mission to go in a different one every time…"

"I'm sure Starfire will oblige."

"Maybe. But I'm not just gonna pounce on her right away, Ray. Give me a _little_ credit. I'm still shaken by what's happened between _us_ this past fortnight, and don't forget _you're_ still kinda… um, pregnant… First things first, you know?"

"Ever the practical one…"

"You know that's not true," he mused bitterly. "I tend to fly off the wall quite a bit, actually…"

"It's all in good jest…"

"Hmm…" He shifted again. "Like I said, you're acting really weird."

She shrugged lazily and drew up her crimson hood, putting that elusive shadow over her face. He saw her eyes shut and watched her, drowsy again himself; after a while his gaze dropped back to her stomach. He saw a few more tiny tics and jerks and eventually gingerly placed one hand on her abdomen to feel it properly.

What he received for his pains was an extremely hard kick that caught the heel of his hand, at which he snatched his hand back – it didn't hurt, because poor Raven's stomach acted as a barricade, but why did he get the feeling that it had been… _deliberate_? As though it was trying to kick him away…

Raven sat bolt upright with a sharp little cry, then clutched at her stomach and doubled up.

"You okay?" Robin asked worriedly.

She straightened up with a weak little smile.

"Yeah… baby just kicked hard, that's all…"

"I know…" Robin took a deep breath. "I think… it was because of me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it kicked when I put my hand on your stomach. I think it was trying to kick _me_, only… _you_ were kinda in the way…"

She frowned, her expression enhanced further by the shadow of her hood.

"It would make sense. As Seth's child, it has probably retained his hatred of humans."

"It's a _baby_. How on earth could it possibly-?"

"As you keep reminding me, it's a _demon_ baby. I would imagine it can sense what you are, especially at such close proximity."

"And it doesn't like me."

"It would appear that way."

"Great; it's not even _born_ and it hates me…"

"There isn't actually any _reason_ for it to like you…"

"It's a freakin' _unborn baby_! How can it have an opinion on _anything_?"

"Because it's _Seth's_."

He frowned; and again noticed that his brow seemed to fall comfortably into the expression with very little effort at all. He'd been frowning/scowling a lot recently, he admitted…

There were no more words after that; there was, for the moment, nothing more for either of them to say. She leaned her head back against the bench and he curled up against her, drawing a little of her cloak around himself to keep his arms warm. Her small hand slipped into his larger one, gripping it tightly, and he squeezed back. He felt the coolness of the ring he had forgotten she was wearing against his gloveless fingers, but was too tired to contemplate it. They fell asleep that way, curled up together on the cold hard bench, their hands interlocked, secrets strung between them.

Not the Avenger of a fake prophecy and the Gem of a real one.

Not murderers.

Not _lovers_.

Just team-mates.

Teen Titans.

_Friends_.

* * *

Wow, angst, angst, angst… Maybe they should have watched _Titanic_ too, just for good measure…

Sooooo… yeah. Sorry about the emo-tastic chapter.

Although it was important to deal with all of these feelings, I think. So I wrote this chapter, and…

Hn. Okay, well, I promise I won't keep you waiting so long this time!

Oh, and… the story seems like it should be straightforward from this point. Mind, I say, _should_ be…

Ooh! Andandand... **Chanceless** did a beautiful piece of artwork of Trigon-rune-possessed-demon-Robin from _Black Magic_. It's absolutely brilliant, and she pixelled _all_ the runes, or so I hear... O.o I'll get a link up at some point but for now, you can just look her up on DA if you wanna see it. It's fab-U-lous! Thankyou muchly, Chanceless!

-RobinRocks xXx

P.S: I have a _Death Note_ fic! Read it:)


	31. Deja Vu

And… yeah. I took ages to update again. _Sorry_.

Interesting fact: I am updating this from my room in Birmingham University! There's not much going on at the moment, just Fresher's Week, which is pretty boring… But lectures start next week and I have some bits and pieces to do before then, so… it's all good.

Anyway, since I recently realised that _Remember the Titans_ has been going for almost a year and STILL isn't nearly over, mostly due to my slow, slow updates, let's get the hell on with this:

Thankyou to: **LoopyLouise123 **(yeah, the US of A was awesome, though it seems like soooooo long ago now… And yeah, RobinxRaven… some people are disappointed by its fizzling out, but it seemed sill to yeah have them proclaim undying love and whatnot; and even so, there's still some more fun to be had!) **YamiTai **(thanks for the hugs, dude! And yeah, I guess Robin was kind of cynical in that chapter…); **Me **(_Avenue Q_ was fantastic – I much preferred it to _The Lion King_, even if that sounds bizarre. I actually didn't like _The Lion King_ very much. I think I've seen the movie too often… And yeah, I don't say "anyways" because "anyways" is wrong…); **Quinn and His Quill **(no, I didn't know that, O One of Useless Facts… Hello from Birmingham, BTW!); **Still Sketchin' **(I think that Narroch certainly _felt_ like murdering me at a few points, heh heh… Although we did a murder mystery party with my friends while she was over here and the killer actually turned out to be _me_…); **DragonPrincess1988 **(cool name, dude. 1988 was the year I was born! Glad you like the story too!); **Chanceless** (oh, Chanceless, my love… you deserved to be mentioned! And _Author Idol_, huh? Jeeeeez, Round Four sucks. I can't believe only seven people sent in an entry…); **The Fate of an Amaryllis **(wow, so many people have much better, non-fangirly pen-names than me… Though I see you changed your name again. You keep coming up with good ones… No, don't worry, no spells in this fic will involve Robin or any of the other Titans dancing naked around a tree… Not even Cyborg, who doesn't wear any clothes anyway…); **Brendan Aurabolt **(yet _another_ superb pen-name! Um, yes, it _is_ hard to swallow that Robin would just be all "Kill it! _Kill it!_ KILL IT!" but… I mean, I kind of ran into a rut. This fic is so long and packs so much junk in that I eventually reached a point where I couldn't drag their procrastination out anymore, if that makes sense…); **Someone **(dude, Robin and Raven _were_ together, but… eh, Seth had a lot to do with it. Anyway, don't give up just yet! There's still more fun to come!); **Guardian of Azarath **(yup yup, plenty of angst… Well, I mean, they're both murderers now, so to speak, so… yeah…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(and again, to you, don't completely lose hope with the Robin/Raven thing. Their relationship might not be real but that doesn't mean it's completely finished with, as you'll soon see! I mean, a lot has happened between them, and you can't just wipe that away, even if they don't truly love each other…); **Simmie **(whaaaaaaaat?! Your vending machine was filled up with _fruit and vegetables_? That is _vile_! And yeah, RobinxRaven disappointment again…).

Actually, let me just break out and say this to everyone: RobinxRaven. A lot of people seem disappointed by the fact that it all turned out to be a fake relationship forced on them both by Seth Elliott so that he could conquer the world, mwa ha ha, etc… I'm sorry, okay, because I feel like I've led you on a whole lot, and I know for a fact that this fic attracts RobinxRaven fans and not very many RobinxStarfire ones. But their relationship was always intended to be a fraud one, because while I like RobinxRaven and think they're good together, this fic isn't actually an epic romance story (it's not actually categorised as it, you'll notice). Most other fics seem to be romance with a plot weaved in – this fic is plot with romance weaved in. And the plot called for the obliteration of their "love", and so… out it went. That said, there is still more involving them and the baby to come, so please don't be put off.

And **Narroch** – _review_ this time, you scum.

Déjá Vu

"What a picture…"

Terra's voice – tinged with a little poison – managed to permeate through the walls of his dreamless sleep. His eyes fluttered open behind his mask and he looked up; groaning as he moved his head and felt his neck crick and pop because of the strange half-sitting position (leaning against Raven on the wooden bench) he had been sleeping in. He put a hand to it and straightened his head, wincing at the cracking sound that accompanied it. Opening his eyes again, he found Terra and Roy leaning over him; Roy was still in his Arsenal uniform, a little wrinkled from where he had slept in it, although the mask and quiver of arrows was missing – the collar was also unbuttoned. Terra had changed her clothes from the night before; now she wore a short 50s-style black dress – pencil skirt to above the knee, square neckline, tiny cap sleeves and a thin ribbon tied with a bow just below her breasts. Her hair was in its usual flowing mane of gold, hiding her right eye from view, and she wore black calf-length pointed black boots on her feet, contradicting her dress somewhat, yet somehow also complimenting it.

Roy had one hand behind Terra, his hand resting on her hip.

They were both grinning.

"Well, don't you two look cute, all cosied up together like that?" Terra mocked, her grin widening.

Robin's eyes narrowed as he unwrapped himself from Raven's red cloak; she was still asleep, one hand at her swollen belly.

Her other hand was still clutched tightly with his.

He quickly and subtly disentangled it, not wanting to give the blonde earthmover any more ammunition against him. Terra had certainly matured in those fifteen years, and she was even a _nicer_ person for it, but some things still remained the same. Relentless teasing, something taught to her courtesy of Beast Boy, was one of those things that had never left her.

"Right back at you," he muttered blackly, nodding at Roy's hand on Terra's hip, squeezing her close.

Terra only beamed in reply; the Reese Witherspoon smile again.

"_Somebody's_ grumpy," Roy crooned, his blue eyes glittering. "What's the matter, Raven turn you down last night?"

"Shut up."

Robin was angry that Roy had _assumed_ that, not because it was (partway) true. He and Raven _hadn't_… done… well, _anything_. Apart from sort of cuddling up, but that was a _comfort_ thing… So they hadn't done _anything_; he hadn't slipped her out of that dress (or _pried_ her out, as the case may have been, considering her physical condition…) and taken her a _third_ time on the icy floor of the church, nor had it even crossed his mind. Likewise, she had not kissed him, whispering suggestive little secrets in his ear; nor had she fumbled with the zip of his wet (painfully drying) leather pants and drawn it down and invited him into her mouth once more…

It hadn't been on _his_ mind. It hadn't been on _her_ mind.

They did, of course, have much more important things to worry about than "getting it on"… and so Robin was highly insulted.

"You look equally disappointed," he replied smoothly. "_Terra_ turn _you_ down?"

Although Roy was still a little hurt by what had gone between him and Terra the night before, and although Robin had actually hit the nail on the head, he continued with his amiable grin.

"But of course," he said, as though incredulous. "The fair maiden wanted nothing of dashing Sir Roy's charm and prowess…"

"The "fair maiden" is standing right here," Terra reminded him coolly, indicating herself. "And FYI, "Dashing Sir Roy"… You bear those words of mine in mind…"

"Certainly will, m'lady," Roy agreed chirpily, saluting her. Terra batted him away irritably.

"Roy, _please_… We have more _important_ things to attend to…?"

"Right." Roy grinned at Robin. "Your clock is fixed and ready to go."

Robin brightened considerably.

"Seriously?"

"_Seriously?_" Roy mimicked, waving his hands around in a mockingly-camp fashion. "Yes, seriously," he clarified, his tone normal again; grinning at the scowl he had received for his impersonation. "So you can get the hell off that bench and go back to where you came from whenever you're ready."

"I'd recommend breakfast first," Terra cut in, her gaze on Robin – it flickered to the sleeping Raven briefly, then went back to the Boy Wonder. "And perhaps struggling out of that leather…"

Robin nodded, swinging his legs over the bench and sitting up.

Terra and Roy burst out laughing at the expression on his face; the silent shriek of agony as the now-dry leather – creased, tightened and stiff – cut into his crotch and legs.

"_Okaaay_…" Robin grimaced, trying not to move anymore. "_Ow_…"

"Hate to say I told you so, but…" Terra started.

"Told ya so!" Roy finished blissfully.

Robin looked up at them, his gaze positively _blazing_. He stood up just to be defiant, gritting his teeth; _why_ hadn't he listened to Terra and Roy and Raven? He had a permanent wedgie, it felt like there was a knife sticking into his crotch from the seaming and the pants were so tight on his legs he could barely move them.

"Your uniform is in the back room," Terra said mirthfully. She slapped him on the back. "Knock yourself out…"

Robin looked over his shoulder at her murderously.

"I _despise_ you…"

Terra beamed.

**TT**

It was cold and dark in the back room, just as it had been those two previous mornings he had awoken here. He noticed that the bed Terra had made up for him was unsettled, implying that Roy had slept there in his stead, while _he_ had been freezing on a hard bench out in the main church.

He also noticed – with a definite smirk – that the bedding was considerably further away from Terra's own than when _he_ had been sleeping there. Terra obviously didn't trust Roy not to feel her up in her sleep.

Already back in his _way_ more comfortable green spandex pants (he didn't ever want to discuss the process of getting that freaking leather off…), Robin gripped the bottom of his black high-necked shirt and pulled it off over his head and replaced it with his crimson "R" motif one; he buttoned it up, pulled on his gloves, and then pulled his cape on over his head too, straightening it out. He sat on the floor, taking all of the weapons from the black leather pouches on the too-big belt he had been wearing and putting them back into his yellow utility one. He briefly mourned the loss of his retractable staff, but it wasn't like he didn't have another one… He looked at the knife in distaste before slipping that in too, standing and clasping the whole belt back around his waist. Lastly he rooted through the leather jacket (discarded on the floor) and pulled out the Blood Diamond, threading it back around his neck. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, exactly; whether he should put it in the Evidence Room as a trophy, bury it in the yard, chuck it into the river, have Starfire incinerate it, have Raven take it back to Azarath for Marcus Vandiver to deal with, slip it into Cyborg's morning waffle stack, or give it to Beast Boy to sell on the internet.

Like a birdarang, it had _so_ many potential purposes…

For now, he decided to just wear it.

He knew they were waiting for him back in the main church and didn't want to hold them up – Terra was making breakfast, Roy was making coffee, and he just didn't want to leave Raven at the peril of both of them. He could see it was an effort for Terra to be amiable towards her, and Roy was just… well, he didn't know her, for one thing, having never met her in person all those years ago. He had only ever heard the stories of her from Terra and Nightwing. He seemed rather fascinated by her, to be perfectly honest; he kept staring at her, partly in genuine interest – because he had finally gotten to meet the infamous Raven; the dark, brooding, antisocial member of the Teen Titans – and partly in a more perverted manner. As Robin had noticed last night, pregnancy had made Raven's figure a lot fuller and curvier, and Roy's gaze _did_ seem to be mostly at the level of Raven's breasts…

He knew they weren't going to do anything to her, but she didn't seem entirely comfortable in their presence, where _he_ was a lot more at ease with them, so he decided to get back quickly for her to take refuge behind. He knew her to be quite a shy person at the best of times, and Terra's presence did _not_ help either.

He crossed the room, making for the door; only stopping when something small, square and white on the floor caught his sharp eye. He turned, noting that it was very near Terra's pillow.

He knew he shouldn't pry, but… the hell, he was a freaking _detective_…

Prying was what he _did_.

He went back and crouched down, picking it up. It was a little white square with a tiny amount of small but untidy writing in the corner.

Robin immediately recognised it as Beast Boy's scrawl; the green boy had a very distinctive hand, his print being very tiny and so untidy it was barely readable when he was rushing. It was readable now, though, as though Beast Boy – a Beast Boy dead fifteen years in this time – had written the message very carefully. It read;

_You and me forever_

_BB_

_XXX_

There was no date. Robin turned it over and saw that it was a photograph; a little one, bigger than a passport shot but smaller than a regular one. It was of Terra and Beast Boy, the changeling flashing "V for Victory" and Terra smiling a soft, serene, happy smile.

Was that a mask? This photograph had obviously been taken before Terra's betrayal; has she been standing there then, smiling so innocently, Beast Boy clutching at her like that, and been planning how to kill each and every one of them? Had she been running over the information she had gathered on them in her head?

Had she been contemplating and relishing the betrayal of her first, last and only friends even then?

Robin realised that it was a strange occurrence; he could look at this picture of the fifteen-year younger Terra and truly hate her for what she had done; for gaining their trust, for lying to them, for selling them out, for breaking Beast Boy's heart…

It was not as easy to hate the 31-year old version. Not as easy to hate a young woman who was truly sorry for her sins and had repented for them several times over. She had lost her first friends and her first and only love; she had been beaten, raped and abused repeatedly by the one person she had trusted – the man whom she had always thought would _help_ her. She had murdered the Justice League, something she would never forgive herself for; she had been taken on by Batman's Titans, watched all of them die, one by one, and watched her world shatter again. She had brutally lost her baby, again to the man who had originally led her down the path of destruction she would probably never get all the way off again.

No, Robin could not hate the Terra who sat out there now in a broken church. He could not judge and despise her when she had already suffered and paid so much.

Looking at the photo, it became apparent to him that Terra must have really loved Beast Boy; he had been the only one she had attempted to save the night Titans Tower was stormed by Slade's army, and when checking the bodies only a few days ago in his own time, he had seen definite tears in her eyes when she came to the green changeling.

Her betrayal had cut Beast Boy up. He had moped about for days afterwards, while the others cleared everything up, in a similar state to Robin in the week following his rape in Arkham Asylum; listless, miserable, near-silent.

One night, Robin and Cyborg had been on their way down the corridor to the elevator to go downstairs for a late night coffee and team dynamics discussion (Robin in his pyjamas and irked at being awoken by Cyborg, who, after a little juice from his charger, was very much awake); the Boy Wonder remembered pausing outside Beast Boy's door to knock and ask if he wanted to join them.

His knock had been cut short because he had heard the sound of muffled sobbing. After a short debate about whether they should go see if he was okay, they decided it was best to leave him be.

When they had come back up an hour later, the crying had stopped.

Neither had commented that fifteen was too old to cry yourself to sleep. Truthfully, in the nights following the rape, Robin had sobbed under his covers until sleep claimed him; and sometimes, now and again, when the hormones kicked in and he was just feeling melancholy for no real reason, one little peek at the few photos of his parents he had was enough to set him off.

He would lie in the dark and remember things of eight and more years ago; his birthdays, the stories Mary Grayson had read to him from old books, the rides on John Grayson's strong shoulders, the way his mom had fussed him when he fell and scraped his knee, and the delight in the tiny black kitten they had once bought him (his time as a cat-owner had been short-lived – the kitten had supposedly "run away" within the week. Looking back on it, Robin realised that it had probably been run over by one of the circus trailers and the traumatic truth had been covered up the guise of "It, uh, ran away…". Truthfully, a circus was no place for a kitten unless it was performing tricks…).

He would wake up in the morning, his face sticky from the tears, and hiss angrily at himself, asserting that sixteen was too old for a boy – and the _leader_ of a superhero team – to be crying himself to sleep.

He realised that Terra must sleep with the picture under her pillow, and so lifted it and slipped it back under.

And as he placed it back down, he realised that Terra's pillow was wet.

Perhaps _sixteen_ wasn't too old to cry yourself to sleep after all.

* * *

"You guys ready for this?"

Roy set the Clock of Eternity down on the floor of the church and knelt back; the four of them were in a rough circle on the matted, filthy carpet of the altar.

Robin and Raven exchanged glances – Raven's obscured by the shadow of her hood – and then looked back at Terra and Roy, nodding.

"Yeah, it's cool, Roy," Robin replied confidently. "It definitely works now, right?"

"Hey!" Roy was insulted. "Of _course_ it works! I tested it out myself. Went back five minutes this morning – you guys were all still asleep. I got to watch Terra do the same sexy little writhe in her sleep _twice_…"

Terra smacked him across the back of the head.

"Pervert," she muttered darkly.

Roy grinned.

"You say it's only platonic, T, but we all know you're in denial…"

Robin flashed an apologetic little smile at Raven, who didn't look very impressed by their banter.

"Well, I'm not too well-versed on time travel," Roy addressed Robin, all business again, "but I think you can forget conventional ideas of the future being affected by what you do…"

"_So_…?" Robin gestured with his hands, indicating "more information".

"So I don't think _this_ time is going to be affected. I mean, I don't think there will be a sudden hitch in the space-time continuum, whereby the Teen Titans, for example, will suddenly be alive in this world. I don't think it works like that, because the Titans weren't alive, and therefore they can't _suddenly_ be alive with pasts and everything, if you get what I mean…"

Robin nodded.

"Right, like say… Starfire couldn't suddenly be alive in this time, not when she's been dead for fifteen years. She'd have, like, a massive gap of fifteen years in her life…"

Roy nodded.

"I think this time will stay exactly the same. However… this isn't the time you're worrying about. The damage here has already been done… Terra, Bruce, Lex and I are the ones left to pick up the pieces. Things will get better from here, though. I know that…"

Terra nodded, a little smile on her face.

"The consequences of everything that happened fifteen years ago have already been reaped," she said softly. "Roy's right, nothing can be done here but rebuild what has been shattered. But you can change _your_ present, Robin, and that's what matters. Don't let history repeat itself…"

"For those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it," Roy added ominously. He grinned. "George Santayana."

"Who?" Robin quirked an eyebrow; both in genuine puzzlement, and also in surprise that Roy would know such an obscure thing.

"George Santayana. An American philosopher. Some people would have you believe that's a British saying, but _nooooo_…"

"Well." Terra folded her arms. "That was both interesting _and_ helpful. Thankyou, Professor Harper."

Roy pulled a hideous face at her, pulling his handsome features out of shape with his fingers very much in the same way Beast Boy did whenever he saw a camera. Terra pulled one right back at him – another skill she appeared not to have lost.

Raven rolled her eyes, tapping her fingers on her swollen stomach, and Robin waved his hand in the air as though in a classroom; he gave a little bird-like whistle to get their attention.

"Uh, hello? Guys? We have our time-zone to save from the perils of Slade?"

"Uh, right, yeah…" Roy spoke up as he and Terra composed themselves. "Well, you know how to work it…"

"…And you know what to do," Terra finished. She clenched her fists. "_Stop_ him, Robin. Stop Slade, and stop _me_. _Destroy_ my younger self if you have to; do what you must, but don't let it come to _this_. _Don't_ let history repeat itself, like I said."

She smiled at him and offered her hand to him.

"Promise me that. Promise you'll save the past. That you'll save the Titans, that you'll save…"

"_Beast Boy_," Raven put in quietly. Terra's gaze flickered to Raven briefly before moving back to Robin.

He reached across and clasped her hand with his; and wasn't surprised when she pulled him into a tight hug.

"I know you can do it," she whispered in his ear. "You always _were_ a hero…"

Robin pulled back from her with a smile, and received a punch on the shoulder from Roy.

"Keep it real, kid, and be safe," he said. He bumped fists with Robin in the same way the Boy Wonder often did with Cyborg. "And most importantly, do what she said," Roy went on, thumbing at Terra. "Save the goddamn world."

"Will do, Roy," Robin replied with a grin.

He knelt back and offered Raven his hand to take – they would need to be touching for the Clock of Eternity to take them both back. She took it, gripping his fingers tightly, even possessively. Even through his glove he could feel the ring on her finger – he kept forgetting about it. He would look into that later.

For now, it was true; the Teen Titans had the world to save.

And to do that, he and Raven had to save the _Teen Titans_.

He knew that Roy had already set the clock back to exactly the right numbers to throw them back fifteen years, so positioned his hand on the button on the top of the clock, and Raven placed hers on top of his; he gave her other hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

Robin looked up at Terra and Roy again.

"Look, just… thankyou. Both of you, for your help and for your hospitality. I couldn't have done it without you…"

Roy grinned.

"Oh, we know that…"

"Well, just so you know…" Robin nodded to Raven as the second hand hit XII and together they slammed down on the button. "…You guys turned out alright…"

The space-time vortex opened like a rift in the cold air of the church.

"Just remember," Terra whispered, as Robin, Raven and the clock began to fade into it, "that _nothing_ is written in stone…"

And then they were gone; Robin and Raven, still gripping hands, fell through a timeless black oblivion, Robin clutching the clock to his chest. The force against them was strong, stronger even than Robin remembered it being on the way _to_ the future, and he felt Raven's hand slipping out of his. He strived to hold onto her but she was inevitably torn from his grip.

She screamed his name and was lost in darkness; his own cry of _her_ name was lost too, and then—

Robin hit concrete, flat on his back, smacking his head; the pain of a feeling that was familiar to him aroused him from near-unconsciousness. Really and truly, you hit your head far too much in this profession. It was a wonder he wasn't brain-damaged…

He felt the hard cold presence of the Clock of Eternity against his ribcage and opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a tentacle that looked suspiciously as though it belonged to Plasmus coming right at his face.

Alarmed, he rolled to the side just in time – the slimy tentacle smashed into the concrete where he had just been lying, cracking it. Tucking the clock under his arm, he slowly stood, rubbing the back of his aching head; looking up he saw that yes indeed, Plasmus was towering over him, although it was contending with Starfire rather than him – the alien girl was flitting around it at remarkable speed, firing starbolts in rapid merciless succession at it.

_Nice work, Roy_, he griped. _Throw us __**right**__ into the middle of the fray… Don't give me __**any**__ time to figure out how to not die…_

He looked around for Raven; she was, once again, contending single-handedly with Overload. Back in her purple cloak and cast-offs of his, he wondered briefly if something had gone wrong, because she was no longer in that red dress.

But then he caught the tiny glitter of the ring on her finger and was reassured. She hadn't been wearing the ring originally – but then, why had the ring come with her back to this time, but not the dress?

His deductive thought-chain was interrupted when yet another of those accursed tentacles smacked him right in the stomach, throwing him backwards. He was more worried about the clock (it was stolen property, after all) but didn't even have to worry about himself, as Cyborg caught him and set him upright again.

"Thanks, Cy," he breathed, turning to his friend. Cyborg grinned and Robin felt something weird well up inside him – not quite joy, or love, or whatever, but it was _something_.

Cyborg had been _dead_. But the clock had worked (finally) and now he _wasn't_. He was _alive _and fighting, and Robin had never been so happy to see him.

"Hey, we're a team," the half-robot reminded him happily. "That's what we do; save each other's butts."

"Well, in that case, save _mine_!" Beast Boy yelled as he ran past them, Cinderblock hot on his tail.

That feeling rose again as Robin saw Beast Boy alive and… _yelling_… as usual.

He felt the back of his belt, his fingers trailing over the knife, and found what he was looking for.

Being thrown back in time had restored his staff. With a grin he pulled it out and twirled it rapidly before clutching it tightly and sliding into a low battle stance.

"You look… strangely happy about all of this…" Cyborg acknowledged warily, firing up his cannon.

"Just glad to be part of the team."

"_Riiiiight_… Well, come and be part of the team over here!" Cyborg yelled, charging after Cinderblock and Beast Boy.

Robin remembered this. He and Cyborg had beaten Cinderblock off Beast Boy and then the three of them had started on Plasmus – meanwhile, Robin had seen Raven in trouble and had sent Starfire over to help her.

Not _this_ time.

Time to pay attention to the words of George Santayana and start rewriting history…

He found a safe place for the Clock of Eternity behinds a stack of crates, and then darted full pelt across the warehouse towards where Raven was struggling, staff in hand and a maniacal grin on his usually angelic face. As he neared the small fray he heard her sharp cry of surprise and pain as she was knocked out of the air by Overload. His grin faded as he launched himself forwards, straining to catch her. He scraped along on his knees, bracing himself for her weight; she landed in his arms, the impact and her weight combined – being so heavily pregnant – dragging him to the floor, but at least he had broken her fall. The most she would get now would be a bruised backside, which would be the least of her worries.

He bit his lip; his knees were _agony_. He didn't dare look at them, knowing that both the material and the skin were torn.

"_Ugh_… you okay?" He asked her, a moan present in his voice as he knelt up.

His heart almost stopped when she threw her arms around his neck.

"You _saved_ me!" She squealed, sounding…

…really, _really_, REALLY not like Raven.

_At all._

She removed her arms and sat back, looking up at him in utter adoration, as though she thought he was some kind of movie star, or even a _god_.

His mouth dropped open and she giggled wildly at his comical expression.

He could only _stare_ at her – he was about to remove his glove and put a hand to her forehead to see if she was burning up, but the roar and familiar ever-present crackle of Overload cut his intentions short. He looked up and his eyes widened further when he saw that Overload had brought his "arms" back and was about to bring them down over Raven's head – she hadn't noticed, she was so busy fluttering her eyelashes at her "saviour".

Robin sprang to his feet, grabbing Raven's hand and physically _hauling_ her with him.

She giggled again, falling up against him – her weight almost knocked him over again.

"Ooh, you like to play _rough_…" she murmured, clutching at him. He pushed her off and grabbed her wrist, dragging her with him as he broke into a frantic run. Just behind them there was an almighty smashing sound as Overload pounded with all of his strength into the floor where they had been only a few seconds before.

"He almost _hit_ us!" Raven said, still running with him; she sounded shocked.

"He'll do a lot more than that if you don't keep running," Robin spat back at her. He retracted his staff and shoved it back into his belt as he ran – instead pulling out an ice disk, followed by an explosive one.

He scraped to a halt and whipped around, pushing Raven down and holding her against him so that he could fling the first of the disks over her head at Overload, who was giving chase. It exploded on impact, releasing an ice-white cloud which hissed in a brittle-sounding fashion. It engulfed Overload, and when it cleared the electric villain was frozen solid.

Robin knew it wouldn't last long… unless he remedied it. The explosive disk followed the ice one, discharging as it hit the Overload-popsicle, shattering it to thousands of icy shards. The smoke cleared, revealing chunks of iced villain everywhere; the circuitboard came skidding across the concrete floor, landing a few inches shy of Robin's boot. No real damage done, to be honest – Overload would reform from this single little circuitboard when he recharged his energy. However, icing him up had well and truly shorted him out for the time being – he wouldn't be electrocuting anyone today, that was for sure.

A bubble of pride expanded in the Boy Wonder – he had gotten rid of the primary threat all by himself. He had saved the Teen Titans and changed history all by _himself_, within the space of five minutes.

This bubble was immediately pricked and popped by the sound of Raven's voice. Or rather, it _didn't_ sound like Raven's voice anymore; it had too much emotion, it was too innocent, the tone was more like Starfire's than Raven's familiar bored, sarcastic jaded manner.

"Yay, you saved us from the mean electric man!" She cried happily, clapping her hands together the way…

…_Starfire_ did.

Robin looked across at Cinderblock and Plasmus; Cinderblock was already out for the count and Plasmus was well and truly on the ropes by the assault Starfire, Cyborg and Beast Boy were launching on him.

He knew Plasmus didn't stand a chance against them, so used the little time he knew the fight would buy him and pulled Raven with him across the warehouse towards the stacks of crates he had hidden from Terra behind in the… _other_ present. They too had been reformed with the time-shift; he remembered Terra smashing them. He shoved Raven behind the stacks and followed her, the shadows of the boxes and the wall enshrouding them both in darkness.

He needed to interrogate her. She was acting _bizarrely_, to put it mildly…

"Hey, it's dark," Raven acknowledged with a little giggle. She turned to him, a wicked little smirk on her features. "Ooh, are we gonna make out?"

He grabbed hold of her wrist.

"No, we are _not_ going to make out!" He hissed angrily. "And keep your voice down!"

She blinked at him, her eyes wide.

"Why, is it a _secret_?"

"Yes… no…" He shook his head to clear it. "What is _wrong_ with you? Why are you acting like this?"

She frowned at him, and again her expression was far too innocent. Raven always looked so… _knowing_.

He wondered briefly, if maybe… when time had been flung backwards again, there had been a mix-up somewhere. Perhaps Raven and Starfire had somehow swapped bodies again – she was indeed acting extremely like Starfire.

It was just a thought, but…

"Star?" He asked cautiously, taking her elbows. "That you? Are you in Raven's body again?"

Raven – or Raven's body at least – blinked at him.

"No, I'm Raven," she told him brightly after a few seconds. She beamed widely. "And you're _Robin_. I like you. You're nice."

She nodded pertly to accentuate her point.

"You're a nice person. You help good people and beat up mean people." She cocked her head at him. "Also, you're really nice-looking, except when your mouth is dropped open like _that_…"

He stared at her all over again; then realised that yes, his mouth was hanging open yet again in utter shock. He shut it and shook his head again, utterly bewildered.

This wasn't Raven. It _couldn't_ be. Raven didn't act like this. Hell, even _Starfire_ didn't act like this… She was acting like a brainless stereotypical high school cheerleader-type; someone who stated the obvious, then beamed as though she thought she was being perceptive.

It couldn't be her, it just _couldn't_ be.

But then, if it _wasn't_… then who _was_ she? And where was the _real_ Raven? Had there truly been a mix-up? Raven – the normal one – had fallen from his grip in the time portal; he hadn't been holding on to her all the way through. What if this _wasn't_ her?

She was still beamed at him.

"I like you," she said again. "You're my friend. I like friends."

"Me too," he replied weakly.

This. Had. Completely. Thrown. A. Spanner. In. The. Works…

He pressed his palms to his forehead and leaned his head back in despair, closing his eyes. There was a brief silence.

"I'm pregnant," Raven said suddenly.

"I know," Robin answered sullenly, not taking his hands from his face.

"It's yours," she went happily.

"No, it isn't," he snapped.

Her actual words didn't sink in until about five seconds later. He slowly took his hands from his forehead and tilted his head upright again, his masked eyes huge once more.

"_What_?" He hissed.

She grinned happily.

"It's your baby. You made me pregnant."

"_Wrong_. Well, okay, I _did_ get you pregnant, but it's not _mine_ …" He looked at her in utter despair. "_Hello_, Raven? Were you not there the whole time Seth was… _Seth_… It's _Seth's_ baby, damn it! _Seth Elliott's_!"

She looked puzzled for a second or two; then the smile returned.

"Ah, you're funny… I like Seth Elliott, he's funny too." She put her hands to her stomach. "It's _your_ baby. You're gonna be a daddy."

"Okay, _first_ of all, _Raven_, if that _is_ who you really are…" Robin took a deep breath. "That _thing_ inside you is _not_ mine, Seth Elliott _isn't_ funny; he's _dead_, and I am _not_ going to be a "daddy" because I am sending that demon parasite living off you to _hell_."

She backed up from him, her hands clutching at her swollen stomach and a horrified expression on her face.

"You are _not_ going to send it to hell!" She said shrilly. "_Your_ _own_ _baby_?"

Robin gripped at his spiky hair in frustration.

"It's… not… _mine_!" He raged through gritted teeth at her.

Tears formed in her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, her voice cracking. "Of _course_ it's yours… _You're_ the one who… who _else's_ could it be?"

"_Seth Elliott's_!"

"But you… he…" The tears overflowed and began to spill down her pale face. "You and me, in Azarath… _we_…" She looked at him dolefully and put her hands together to make a bird shape, as though making shadow puppets in the light of a torch. "You had _wings_," she said mournfully, flapping her fingers.

He groaned wearily.

"I know, _I know_…"

"I don't understand," Raven said quietly.

"Neither do I…" He sighed wearily. "Don't you remember _anything_?"

She sucked her finger thoughtfully.

"I remember getting up this morning. I was sick a lot, and I yelled at Starfire. Then I had a fight with you, and you gave me some clothes. Oh, and I had a waffle for breakfast." She frowned thoughtfully. "But then I was sick again…"

"So… the whole "getting-kidnapped-by-Seth-Elliott-and-then-being-brought-to-the-future-to-watch-me-die-as-a-sacrifice-for-you-so-Seth-could-get-his-powers-back" thing is just one big blank?"

She blinked at him again; then smiled.

"You look like a stop light."

"What?" His expression was one of absolute incredulity.

Her smile widened.

"See, look…" She prodded first his shirt, then the underside of his cape, and then one of his gloves. "Red, yellow and green. Stop lights are red, yellow and green too."

"No kidding," he muttered darkly.

She pushed her cloak back to look at the clothes she was wearing – cast-offs of his that were far too big for _him_.

"I'm wearing your clothes," she giggled. "They smell nice."

"I've never worn them, that's why…"

She leaned against him before he could bat her away, her arms going around his chest. She breathed him in, her amethyst eyes closing.

"You smell nice too. You smell like… _boy_, I guess."

He pushed her away with a false little laugh, both irritated and creeped out.

He couldn't figure this out. He assumed that it _was_ Raven – the tiny ruby and platinum ring on her finger cemented this fact – and it wasn't Starfire in her body, and she had memories of what had happened _prior_ to the Teen Titans coming to the warehouse.

However… she was acting extremely strangely and had no recollection of the events that had happened in the "future". She was as clueless as the other three, who had not been present, wouldn't believe him when he clarified that the baby wasn't his, and wasn't herself at all.

A sinking feeling overtook him; he felt as though someone had grabbed his innards, tied them in a knot and kicked them up and down a football field a few dozen times before replacing them in his body.

_Now_ what was he going to do? How could he save Raven and destroy the child if she was acting this way? He knew she would be no help to him, and if she truly believed that the baby was _his_, having no memory of the events that had remedied this assumption…

…He was right back to Square One – Raven not wanting to abort it and protesting angrily when he suggested it, accusing him of wanting to murder his own baby. And with her not even herself, he knew in his heart there would be no convincing her, not unless he could manage to restore her memory. But he didn't even know how she had _lost_ it in the _first_ place…

Okay, well, he could be sweet when he wanted. He would play up to her for now – work at her level and see where it got him. He didn't like to do it – it felt like patronising her; but then, he wasn't entirely sure that Raven in this state would mind, or even _notice_, for that matter…

He opened his mouth to say something to her, but was interrupted by an explosion of both green and blue light interfused, followed by a whoop of "BOO-YAH!" from somewhere across the warehouse. Starfire's victorious little giggle accompanied this, and Beast Boy was heard cheering too. It didn't take much a detective – and Robin was certainly one of _those_ – to figure out that Cyborg, Starfire and Beast Boy had been successful in K.O-ing Cinderblock and Plasmus.

It wasn't over yet.

Slade still needed a warning butt-kicking; to clear up this little prophecy matter once and for all.

* * *

Two things:

**One:** Raven. Mwa ha ha. Yet another twist in the tale. You thought this was all going to be straightforward? (Incidentally, for anyone interested, her behaviour is modelled on that of Buffy-bot from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_…)

**Two:** George Santayana. This joke actually comes from _Revolution_, in which Mad Mod says "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it" was spoken by a wise Englishman. This is of course an ironic joke, because it was actually said by an _American_ philosopher, George Santayana. Oh, Mod, you're so dumb…

Anyway… yes. Greetings to all from the University of Birmingham in Jolly Old England, and I'll update soon(er)!

- RobinRocks xXx


	32. Change of Heart

OMG! I meant to update this earlier in the week to mark _Remember the Titans_' one year anniversary on October 1st, but… wow, jeez, I kind of put up a new fic instead.

_Poison Apple_. Brand new _Death Note_ LxLight slashy fic, co-written with Narroch. Nyah ha ha. End of plug. :D

So, I'm late with this. Wow, a whole year. In fact, it's two years since _Asylum_ first went up. To all of you who have been here from the very start, thankyou so much for your loyalty and, more importantly, **patience**. I know, I know, I am so very slow…

There isn't too much of _Remember the Titans_ left to go – I think we're in the last third now. Yayz!

Thankyou to: **Ray1 **(no, Seth is no longer still alive, but that doesn't mean he's totally out of the game…); **Narroch **(my lovely co-writing partner-in-crime! You reviewed! Yay! Yes, Raven is now a stereotypical blonde. Well, she _is_ based on Buffy-bot. And maybe that future reality was fun, but not as much fun as _Poison Apple_!!!!1111!11! Now go do _Maleficent_!); **YamiTai **(another of my wonderful loyal peeps who has stuck around and suffered my slow updates for a whole two years. It's so nice that you're still here. :) Starfire Deluxe – I like that!); **Quinn and His Quill **(very interesting hypothesises. You're actually very close with one of them, but I'm not telling you which, mwa ha ha. And no, I don't think Mad Mod is that subtle. He wears a jacket with a Union Jack on it, for godsakes…); **Someone **(it still technically _is_ a Robin/Raven story since they have to deal with all this baby crap together. I mean, it may have returned to the canon Robin-likes-Starfire state of mind, but the new Raven is now in love with Robin, thinks it's his baby, and is not letting go without a fight…); **Amara-chan **(in a lot of ways, I guess this fic is kind of idiot-proof, in that I explain everything in an often very heavy-handed manner, which is not to insult the intelligence of the audience, it's just because it's so complicated that it needs to be categorically explained in a "Dummy's Guide to…" fashion, you know? Some fics get away with being cryptic, but this wouldn't, so it isn't); **Guardian of Azarath **(yeah, sucks to be Robin. I should write a musical version of _Remember the Titans_, and borrow the song _It Sucks To Be Me_ from the wonderful _**Avenue Q**_. As for Raven… you'll have to wait and see!); **TheFallenAngel67 **(oh, I hope they let you out of the mental institution soon! I'm sorry they put you in there – I'll have to start updating faster!Oh well, at least you managed to steal a computer! Don't worry about Raven, all will soon be revealed…); **The Fate of an Amaryllis **(hurrah for scary Buffy-bot Raven! Yeah, your pen-name is cool! You're good at thinking them up, dude! I like this new one. It has more pizzazz than "Robin + Rocks", you know? And come on, you must have realised by now that nothing is ever simple in Robin's world when _I'm_ writing his sucky life…); **Dragonprincess1988** (well, thankyou very much!); **Me **(I wouldn't be worrying about TerraxRoy anymore, since the future alternate versions are now out of the storyline. Any pairing involving Terra from now on is strictly Beast Boy-related… And yes, Raven is still pregnant, but her cloak is hiding it, and Robin is trying desperately to keep it that way…); and **LoopyLouise123** (as I just said to The Fate of an Amaryllis… NO, NOTHING is straightforward in the _Teen Titans_ universe when I get hold of it, mwa ha ha. But would we want it that way? I think not. And don't worry, Raven's behaviour should provide some comic value…).

Ohhh, so much the drama…

Change of Heart

"Okay, Ray, we have work to do now," Robin whispered, taking the currently mind-blitzed empath's hand. "You can use your powers, right?"

Raven nodded earnestly, as though eager to please him.

"Yes! I move things with my mind!" She squeezed her eyes shut in a happy little smile. "And I have magic words. They're Azarathian."

He patted her shoulder with a weak little smile of his own.

"I know you do…" He took her hand and gave it a tug. "Come on, let's go meet the others…"

"Yay, friends!"

"Uh-huh, _friends_…" Robin trailed off, an icy feeling washing over him as though someone had chucked a bucket of cold water over his head.

The pregnancy. Until he figured out what he was going to do and how he was going to do it, he decided that it was probably best to keep it between himself and Raven. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore, and if he couldn't even explain it _himself_, how was he going to explain it to _them_? Unfortunately… with Raven behaving in this not-like-Raven manner, he realised that he couldn't rely on her to keep quiet the way she had before.

He whipped around and took her by the shoulders.

"Ah, Raven… uh…" He forced a grin onto his face. "The, uh, baby…"

"_Our_ baby!"

"Yeah, um, our baby…" He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "The, uh, others don't know about it…"

"Our friends?" Raven's large eyes widened in sudden delight. "Is it a _secret_?"

Robin nodded earnestly.

"Yes, a secret! A _big_ secret! Secrets are…" He wracked his brain. "…Um, secrets are… _fun_, right?"

Raven nodded eagerly too, a big, uncharacteristic smile on her pale face.

"Oh, a secret… So… we can't tell them?"

"No, ah, not yet…" Robin took his hands off her shoulders and tugged her cloak closed to cover her obvious bump. "In fact, you can't even _show_ them, or even _hint_ at it. No-one must know _anything_, right? You have to hide it, because it's a secret, okay?"

"A secret between _us_?"

"Mm-hmm." He put on his sweetest smile. "Just you and me, okay? Secret between birds. Nobody else is allowed to know."

"Okay!"

"Good." He turned away from her and made to go back through the gap between the boxes and the wall back out into the main warehouse. He felt Raven grasp his wrist.

"I like you," she said again blissfully. "You're nice."

He dragged her out and prised her hand off his wrist, then made sure her cloak was covering her body completely.

"_Too_ nice sometimes, I think…" he muttered blackly, pulling up her hood for her too in an attempt to cover her uncharacteristically-happy expression. He didn't want to raise too many questions… "Now, remember, it's a big secret, so not a word, okay?"

She nodded.

"And try to act a little more like…" Robin grasped for the right description. "Well, like… _Raven_."

She smiled broadly at him.

"That's me! I'm Raven!"

"_I begin to wonder_…" Robin muttered.

"Dudes and dudettes, I regret to say that the show is already over!" Beast Boy whooped as he, Starfire and Cyborg approached them.

"Aw, yeah!" Cyborg added cheerfully. "We came, we saw, we _kicked_ its _ass_!"

"You gotta slimy problem with monsters, ghoulies or ghosties, who ya gonna call?" Beast Boy yelled jovially in continuation, pointing both hands at Robin like guns in a game of _Cowboys and Indians_.

Robin raised an eyebrow.

"We done with the _Ghostbusters_ shtick yet?" He asked dryly, noting wearily that their two previous comments had been lines from _Ghostbusters_.

"We all know you love the giant marshmallow man, Robin," Beast Boy pouted. "Just admit it; it's the first step to overcoming your problem…"

"What's next?" Robin barbed in reply, amused by the banter all the same. "_Acceptance_?"

Beast Boy patted Robin's shoulder, his face comically saddened.

"We'll still love you, dude…"

"That could make an interesting book," Cyborg noted. "_Confessions of Mr Stay-Puft's Secret Lover_…"

"As wacky as this conversation is becoming," Robin replied sardonically, "I feel inclined to point out that you're just jealous because Mr Peanut never returned your calls…"

Cyborg feigned outrage.

"You starting with me, marshmallow boy?"

Robin grinned.

"Oh, I wouldn't _dare_…"

"Wow…" Beast Boy scratched his green hair. "I didn't actually expect a _Ghostbusters_ quote to get these sorts of confessions… I can maybe see _Robin_ drooling over Mr Stay-Puft-"

"_Hey_!"

"-But _c'mon_, Cy… Mr Peanut, of _Nutter Butters_ fame? _Puleeeze_… You can do _way_ better…"

Cyborg hung his head.

"It seemed like something special…"

"Well, since a single movie quote has provoked this self-help conversation," Beast Boy rattled on happily, "I happen to know a ton of _Blues Brothers_ quotes… _and_ all the words to the songs, I might add."

Robin gave a nervous little laugh.

"Ah, considering the profanities used in that movie, BB, I think maybe we should leave it…"

"Friends," Starfire cut in finally – having not, for once, been able to a word in edgeways before this. "You speak of strange things that I do not understand. Robin…" She turned her narrowed gaze on the Boy Wonder in question. "…Who is this "Mr Stay-Puft" of which you speak?"

"No-one you should worry about," Robin replied dismissively, "considering he's a 100ft tall marshmallow man from a cult 80s movie…"

This seemed to confuse Starfire even more, but Robin turned his attention from her to Raven, who was being extremely – thankfully – quiet.

However, as soon as he caught her eye, her broad smile returned.

"I like marshmallows," she said happily. "They're nice. I especially like the pink ones. Pink is a nice colour."

Robin averted his eyes, his stomach twisting unpleasantly, as Cyborg, Beast Boy and Starfire _stared_ at her, gobsmacked.

"Dude…" Beast Boy managed to croak out.

"…Did _Raven_ just say… she _liked_ something?" Cyborg finished weakly.

Slowly but surely, both of their gazes slid in Robin's direction.

_Typical_.

Just because he had once been Batman's sidekick, it didn't mean _everything_ was his doing…

"She hit her head back there," he fabricated smoothly; he grimaced inwardly at how easily he was able to lie to them. "Took a bit of a wallop from Overload. Nothing to worry about…"

"Nothing to worry about?" Cyborg repeated incredulously.

"Dude, she's acting…" Beast Boy floundered helplessly.

"Really not like Raven?" Robin offered wearily; his knees were agony and he was overall just getting sick of the conversation already.

"Right!" Beast Boy gestured wildly with his arms. "_Raven_ doesn't like _anything_, _especially_ not marshmallows, and _especially_ not _pink_ ones! She doesn't even like _Elvis_!"

Cyborg gave a disgusted little groan.

"She doesn't like the King _himself_?"

"Cy, considering how deep we just got ourselves in reference to junk food mascots, I really wouldn't even _go_ there about Elvis," Robin put in dryly.

"Right…" Cyborg frowned and looked across at Raven; Starfire was hovering near her, a confused look on her pretty face.

"Friends, I do not believe that Raven is quite… _herself_," the alien girl decided.

_No kidding_, Robin thought snippily.

He was suddenly pushed aside by Beast Boy, who pounded over to Raven and got right in her face; she blinked at him, then smiled pleasantly.

"Hm, you're green," she stated blissfully. "Green is a nice colour too."

"Who are you and what have you done with Raven?" Beast Boy demanded, shaking her.

"B!" Shocked, Cyborg tugged the green changeling off. "Don't shake Raven like that; you'll hurt her!"

Raven gave a little giggle.

"He's kinda funny," she said, her smile firmly in place.

Cyborg's jaw dropped.

"It really _isn't_ her!" He gasped.

"Then where is our friend?" Starfire demanded, her eyes flaring jade. "I desire to know!"

"Wait, _wait_!" Robin stepped in front of Raven frantically. "It _is_ her, I promise! Like I said, she hit her head. It's probably a little concussion that's making her act this way."

Raven put her arms around his waist from behind him and leaned her head against his back; Starfire appeared extremely irked and Cyborg and Beast Boy were rendered speechless once again.

"I like Robin," Raven said happily. "He's nice." She peeked around him at the other three Titans. "And he's _way_ smarter than any of _you_. Oh, and we have a big secret, but Robin says I can't tell any of you what it is…"

Robin seethed inwardly; he really and truly could have _screamed_. True, she hadn't told anyone… but she might as _well_ have.

He did, however, keep his poker face on and calmly disentangled her arms from around his waist as they all stared at _him_ now too.

He shot the three of them a calm little grin.

"There's no secret," he muttered; he nodded at Raven and tapped his temple.

Raven didn't catch the gesture – "She's crazy" – but she _did_ catch the words.

She cut in front of Robin, her expression one of confusion.

"It _isn't_ a secret?" She asked, clasping her hands together. "But you said-"

Robin suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth – but it wasn't _just_ to shut her up before she landed the pair of them in it right up to the neck. He used his free hand to motion of the rest of them to be quiet too as he strained to listen to a voice beyond the warehouse.

A voice that was all too familiar.

"It is Terra." Starfire said it before him.

Robin nodded.

"We can't hang around," he acknowledged. He looked up at the ceiling and saw that same square opening up into the roof-space of the warehouse that he had managed to leap up into when hiding from Terra.

Terra was their link to Slade. Slade still needed to be stopped. It wouldn't do to bail out now, not when Terra could lead them right _to_ Slade.

"Everyone, up there," he said, pointing upwards. "Now."

"Robin, we can take her," Cyborg said reproachfully. "We don't need to _hide_. And anyway, _I'm_ leader now, remember? I'm the one who gives the orders."

"For the time being, Cyborg, I humbly request my position back," Robin replied distractedly.

"Sure, but… why right now?"

Robin smiled.

"Just call it déjà vu…" His smile faded. "I know we can take Terra, Cy; but… do you really _want_ to?"

He looked around at them all; they all looked equally saddened and dejected, except Raven, who was gazing intently at the ceiling.

Beast Boy looked _crushed_.

There was a sudden crash from beyond the warehouse, snapping them all out of their melancholic reverie.

"We have to go!" Robin pointed upwards again and Cyborg, Starfire and Beast Boy nodded; Beast Boy transformed into a tiny green hummingbird and flitted upwards, while Starfire hoisted Cyborg up under his arms and flew up after Beast Boy.

Robin and Raven stood there a while longer; _he_ was waiting for _her_ to levitate and take him with her – _she_ was simply gazing at _him_ intently, again with that adoring expression on her face.

"Yo, Robin, Raven! You might wanna hurry it up!" Cyborg hissed down at them.

Robin sighed wearily and looked at Raven, who blinked beguilingly at him.

"Wait here," he told her, already taking off across the warehouse to retrieve the Clock of Eternity; he didn't want to risk someone else taking her up and them discovering that she was neither as slim nor light as she _should_ be. His shredded knees smarted and stung, but he ignored them as he snatched up the clock from its hiding place and tucked it safely under his arm before darting back over to Raven, pulling out his grappling hook as he went and firing it upwards towards the square opening.

"I can't get my arm around you," he said pointedly as he reached her. "You'll have to hold on around my neck."

She smiled and threw her arms around him just as the line pulled taut and hoisted them both upwards into space. He grimaced at her weight and put one hand under her thighs to hoist her up a little to relieve the strain on his neck, the clock wedging against her.

He pushed her up into the roof-space first, irked at her "sudden loss" of her powers; he put the clock up after her, then finally hoisted himself up, arching his back and legs up to land on his feet and straighten up gracefully. Tugging his grappling hook free, he replaced it in his belt and then crouched down, biting his lip against the pain of his torn-up knees, to join the other Titans at the mouth of the square hole.

"It's dark," Raven said matter-of-factly, finding Robin in the darkness and clutching at him.

"Be quiet," Robin hissed at her as she tugged at his cape.

"Dude, are you _sure_ that's Raven?" Beast Boy whispered.

"Be quiet!" Robin moaned wearily.

"Yo, Robin, what's with the clock, anyway?" Cyborg inquired in hushed tones.

"Long story; now _be quiet!_" Robin replied pleadingly.

"Robin-" Starfire started timidly.

"_Shut up!_" Robin stopped himself from yelling, but his tone was one of obvious anger; unfortunately poor Starfire had gotten the worst bite-back and gave a miserable little sniffle that Robin almost slapped her for—

He didn't get around to it as the very foundations of the building suddenly shook and there was an explosion, accompanied by the harsh grating and scraping of stone on metal on stone on earth; Terra – geomancer, a fifteen-year-younger one – had arrived.

As before, she was talking to Slade via a tiny communicator fitted into her ear – one that Robin in particular recognized all too well.

However, that was where the similarities to the "other" present ended; she was now standing on her floating pedestal-like rock, looking around, stammering into her communication device.

"S-Slade… I… something's gone wr-wrong…" Her stricken gaze moved from one villainous lackey to the next; the frozen shards and single circuit-board remains of Overload, the knocked-out Cinderblock, and Otto Von Furth a.k.a Plasmus, sound asleep amidst the slimy remains of his alter-ego.

"Where are the Teen Titans?" Slade hissed through the ear-piece, his voice as clear as day in the silent warehouse.

Terra hesitated, looking around again, her expression now unreadable; it was impossible to say whether she was glad the Titans had escaped death, or if she was just as irked as Slade.

There was a few moments' silence…

"_Gone_," she whispered finally, more to herself than to Slade.

"_Track the signal_," Robin whispered to Cyborg up in the roof-space; Cyborg nodded and fired up the panel on his right forearm, tiny lights flashing and charts soaring up and down.

"I've got a lock on the signal," he replied softly. "Tracing…"

The word "UNDERGROUND" flashed up across the panel in bright red block capitals, and then was swiftly replaced by a map, on which a tiny red point flashed. Robin and Cyborg both squinted at it for a moment; then Robin was pushed aside by Beast Boy, who glared at the point as though he wanted his gaze to melt it.

"Well, just in case they are _hiding_," Slade's smooth voice went on through the ear-piece, "simply bring the _entire warehouse down_, like a good girl…"

Terra blinked.

"But… what about Cinderblock, and-"

"They will live, believe me. We'll pick them up after. As for you… once you're done here, I want you to go to Titans Tower. They may have gone back there. Either way, I want you to bring _that_ down too. It's time to start putting them on the ropes…"

"Yes, Slade…"

Terra nodded in affirmation, turned off the earpiece and made her way across the warehouse on her small floating rock, going outside to unleash the devastation that she was so capable of – the devastation that had driven her into Slade's hands in the first place.

Robin remembered _this_ bit too.

"Time for us to get out of here, team," he muttered.

Again, as though taking its cue from his words, the shuddering of the foundations started up again, and Robin stood up, picking up the clock. He considered getting Raven to take the five of them outside within her Soul Self, but quickly quelled this notion – to be perfectly honest, he didn't _trust_ her in the state she was in. Her powers required utmost control over her emotions, and at this moment in time, Raven was _anything_ but controlled.

"Star, take out the wall," he said sharply, turning in the dark to the alien girl. Starfire nodded and let rip with two beams from her eyes, blasting the entire far wall away. This didn't help the predicament of the collapsing warehouse, as the tremor only caused the ceiling supports to crack, hailing down dust and debris on the Teen Titans.

Beast Boy pelted towards the new opening with a squeal, changing into a green petrel and soaring out, closely followed by Starfire carrying Cyborg again and Robin running, dragging Raven, who was stumbling along after him blissfully.

Their fleeing was cut short when the hole suddenly collapsed on itself, bringing half of the ceiling with it. Robin skidded to a halt, Raven running into the back of him; he gazed in horror at the mountain of stone that had just swallowed up their only escape.

This, too, did not last long – the weight of all that stone was too much for the wooden floor of the roof-space and it cracked and gave way. The bit of floor that Robin happened to be standing on was suddenly tilted upwards as it splintered and was dragged down with the stone, and he with it; his hand was torn from Raven's, as the bit of floor that _she_ was standing on was, for the moment, faring just fine.

"_ROBIN!_" Raven screamed, reaching down after him. He struggled to catch her hand but was too far away, and then plummeted with the floor and the ceiling when it gave way with an almighty cracking sound.

A reflexive yell marked his descent towards the concrete floor of the warehouse; knowing that he would be crushed upon impact by the stone that was falling down after him. He flailed in midair, not able to twist his arm around to get his grappling hook because of that cursed clock – as though he wished his body to suddenly acquire the ability of flight.

For a brief second he wished for those wings back.

He shut his eyes and waited to hit the ground – maybe there was a chance of him managing to roll aside before the stone hit the ground after him, avoiding being crushed by it.

The impact never came.

He opened his eyes again, finding that everything was still black. He blinked a few times, wondering if he'd suddenly gone blind, noticing the weird floating feeling he was getting too.

And then the blackness drew back and he was dumped out onto grass. He sat up and looked around; finding Raven leaning over him, beaming. Behind her, Starfire, Beast Boy and Cyborg were looking on, their expressions all equally puzzled.

Realising that Raven had saved him by taking him into her Soul Self and teleporting them both outside, he didn't know whether to be pleased with her or not. He was certainly grateful for it, because there was no denying that she had saved him, but this meant that she _hadn't_ "lost" her powers at all.

So why was she acting as if she _had_?

Time to do a little experiment with her…

"Raven, you think you could heal me up?" He asked her sweetly, gesturing at his shredded knees.

She nodded earnestly, practically throwing herself down beside him on the grass.

"Yes, I can heal people!" She said enthusiastically. She raised her hands to his knees, a familiar black glow surrounding her fingers. She muttered her chant and her magic poured from her fingertips into his wounds, healing them up and drawing out the pain. She threw him another pretty smile from beneath her hood when she was done, removing her hands.

"All better!"

"Thanks, Ray."

She didn't notice the skepticism in his tone, nor did she catch his narrowed gaze.

She obviously hadn't lost her powers, or even the ability to use them, so why was she acting so… _vulnerable_?

He looked up at Starfire for a brief second; she looked extremely put out by Raven's behaviour now rather than concerned, her sizzling gaze on Raven's back.

Again Robin revised the mental note to make sure that Raven was covered up _at all times_. It wasn't _his_ child she carried, but _she_ seemed to think it _was_, and if he couldn't convince _her_, how was he going to convince the others?

Better if they didn't know. Secret between birds. Right.

No problem.

He stood, deliberately ignoring Raven when she waved her hand at him to get him to help her up too; Cyborg obliged distractedly, his gaze on the Boy Wonder.

"Beast Boy, Starfire," Robin ordered, turning to the shape-shifter and the alien girl, "I want you to go to the Tower as fast as you can. Head Terra off, stop her from destroying it." His gaze hardened. "By _any_ means necessary."

Starfire frowned but nodded; Beast Boy looked away. Robin wanted to say something, but…

…there was nothing _to_ _say_.

Terra wasn't on their side; she was on Slade's, and she had to be stopped.

The older version of Terra had told him to stop her younger self from making the same mistakes. Robin intended to do that, and if it meant _killing_ the Terra of their time, then so be it.

Hadn't the fifteen-year-older Terra even _said_ that?

"…_Destroy my younger self if you have to; do what you must, but don't let it come to this. Don't let history repeat itself…"_

"Star, take this." Robin threw the Clock of Eternity to Starfire, who caught it in puzzlement. "It needs to go back to the museum. Just put it on my desk once you get back."

Starfire nodded, still frowning. _She_ of course recognised it, having been the one to bring it back from its "disappearance" from history. But still…

Why did _Robin_ suddenly have it?

Robin turned to Cyborg, nodding to Starfire and Beast Boy to get going; they took to the air, Beast Boy in the form of a green albatross, even as Robin began to address his second-in-command – Raven hovered behind Robin, seemingly enthralled by just the sound of his voice.

"Cy, you and Raven are with me," he went on quickly. "We're going after Slade. We need to-"

He was cut off by the familiar little jingle of his communicator; pulling it from his belt, he flipped it open and studied it for a few moments.

Then groaned.

"What is it?" Cyborg asked worriedly.

Robin turned the pager around to show him; on the tiny circular screen was a live surveillance feed of the Amazing Mumbo robbing Jump City's largest jewelry store.

Cyborg gave a moan too.

"_Damn_ that little blue-faced freak… he sure knows how to pick a great time to pull a heist, huh?"

Robin bit his lip, his mind working a mile a minute.

"Robbie?"

"Hm?"

"What do we do?"

Robin flipped his communicator closed and looked up.

"We can't ignore it. It's still our duty to protect the city." He ran a hand through his raven hair. "Cy, I want you to go Downtown and sort out Mumbo."

Cyborg frowned.

"Are you sure? Why don't you send Raven to-?"

"Raven is going with you."

Cyborg blinked.

"But… you can't… Robin, you _can't_ face Slade all alone!" The half-robot burst out. "Now don't be stupid, man! After what he did to you _last_ time? Are you out of your _mind_?"

"He won't do _that_ again, Cy," Robin replied coolly, pulling out his staff from his utility belt. "Now come on, we have work to-"

"Robin…" Cyborg grabbed Robin's shoulder as the Boy Wonder walked past him. "Jesus, man, he _raped_ you!"

Robin seized up a little; then loosened up again as he turned to face his friend.

"You think I don't _know_ that?" He asked angrily, his voice cracking a little. "I was _there_, remember? And it freakin' _hurt_!"

"That's _why_ I don't want you to face him alone!" Cyborg argued.

"He won't do it again."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Cyborg challenged him.

"It was…" Robin looked at the floor; as far as the Titans knew, the "prophecy" still stood.

_He_ was still the Avenger, and _they_ were still the mortal gods.

He decided that it was best to just keep it simple.

Tch. "Simple".

"It was for the prophecy, Cy. He did it because he _had_ to."

"He had to _homosexually rape_ you?" Cyborg repeated skeptically.

Robin flinched slightly.

"No. I… I couldn't… couldn't be a… _virgin_." He gave an off-handed little shrug. "So I guess he took it into his own hands…"

"Did he _need_ to?"

Robin scowled.

"That is a.) None of your business, and b.) Irrelevant," he replied icily.

Cyborg smirked to himself.

"Anyway," Robin went on, taking a deep breath, "it… doesn't matter now. _None_ of it matters anymore."

"Say what?" Cyborg frowned deeply. "Look, man, I don't know what you're on, but… he _hurt_ you. I'm not letting that happen again."

"Me neither." Robin gripped his staff extremely tightly. "And I'm _not_ letting him hurt anyone _else_, in all senses of the word. I have to stop him, and I'm _going_ to."

"I'd rather it wasn't this way."

"It can't _be_ any other way, Cy, and you know it. This is something I _have_ to do…"

"_Why?_" Cyborg burst out. "Look, Robin, when it comes to Slade, you're not quite… _yourself_. It's all too personal, and especially _now_, after… How about _you_ shut down Mumbo, and Ray and I will-"

Cyborg knew it was a goner before he even finished the sentence; Robin was incensed by the suggestion.

"Cyborg, you _don't_ understand!" Robin gripped at his fringe. "It's all so… _complicated_…"

"_What's_ complicated?"

"Just…_everything_." Robin heaved a sigh. "The prophecy, and… trust me, I'm the _only_ one who can handle Slade… And it's… it's _time_ I faced him. Time I faced my fears… I have to do this, Cyborg, and I have to do it alone. You go kick Mumbo's tail. We can regroup afterwards…"

Cyborg sighed defeatedly.

"Then take Raven with you," he said pleadingly. "I can handle _Mumbo_ alone…"

Robin shook his head.

"No. Raven stays with you. You two make a good team."

Truthfully, he didn't want Raven anywhere near Slade – he knew the masked man knew of her pregnancy and feared greatly that he would manage to twist that into some kind of weapon. Better if Raven was kept well away from him.

Besides, she was annoying him.

"Robin-"

"Cyborg, we _have_ to end this, and this is the way it has to be."

He clenched his free fist.

"And we're going to _win_."

Cyborg raised his eyebrows.

"You've certainly changed your tune," he acknowledged. "Only last week we were getting the daily morbid "He's-always-one-step-ahead" pep talk…"

Robin allowed himself a brief grin.

"We're an awesome team, Cy, and I _believe_ in us. I _know_ we can make a difference. I _know_ we can save the world…

"Know what _I don't_ _know_?"

"What?"

"_Where_ you get half of this stuff…"

Robin shrugged.

"Usually I just blame Batman…"

Cyborg grinned.

"Sounds like a plan."

Robin smirked.

"And speaking of plans… Titans, _GO_!"

* * *

Next: A three-way _battle royale _(has anyone seen that movie? _So_ awesome…!), involving Terra vs. Starfire and Beast Boy, The Amazing Mumbo vs. Cyborg and "Buffy-bot" Raven, and, the favourite classic, Slade vs. Robin.

I'll update as soon as I can if you promise not to miss it! Bring popcorn! It'll be like _Kill Bill_, but without the yellow jumpsuit…

Oh, and if you have never seen Buffy-bot, even if you're not a fan of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, you should type "Buffy-bot" into the YouTube search engine, just so you can see her behaviour. The new Raven is modelled on her, and she's so hilarious…

Whoo, one whole year of _Remember the Titans_!

…Wait. That's probably a bad thing…

O.o

- RR xXx

P.S: If you like _Death Note_, check out _Poison Apple_! It's brand new and on my profile!


	33. Armageddon

OMG, I am sosososososo sorry! I haven't updated for over a month, after I _promised_ to update quicker…

I meant to update for Halloween, and I didn't, and… wow, I have no real excuse, because _Remember the Titans_ is all completely written, in its entirety…

Ugh. I apologise. Please don't hate me for screwing about over in the _Death Note_ section instead… I promise I haven't forsaken you or _Teen Titans_!

Anyway! Thankyou to: **LoopyLouise123 **(yes, _RTT_ has been going for well over a year now, actually… It probably could have been finished 6 months ago if I would just update quicker…); **Narroch **(yeah, well, you fail at life, so I'm not talking to you…); **Someone **(no, they won't be able to hide it for long – and Cyborg begins to get suspicious this chapter!); **Dragonprincess1988 **(and here the next chapter is! Finally!); **Amara-chan **(Robin/Slade face-off is the last segment, but it's also the longest! As for Raven… yeah, you'll figure out why she's being such a ditz. Eventually.); **Guardian of Azarath **(did you update your fic in the end? Should have been quicker than my update was! And Buffy-bot is hilarious – not as funny as Cordelia, though!); **Quinn and His Quill **(yes, Quinn – yes there is. How are you, by the way?); **dlsky **(the whole Slade and Robin thing? You'll have to wait and see for their reactions, but yeah, you're right, it's all kind of confusing at the moment…You summarised all the angst up rather nicely!);** The Fate of an Amaryllis **(you see, all your pen-names are always so great! Mine is so… fangirlish… AND makes no sense over in the _Death Note _section… Yeah, it's kinda RobinxStarfire… I'm sorry…); **YamiTai **(yes, two years… it's been a loooong time, and I'm just so slow at updating… It's not like I even have to write the chapters between updates…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(oh, I'm glad that you're better! You must be by now, surely, since I haven't updated for like a month…); **Chanceless **(yes, yes, I'm very sorry – I'm so bad… Chucked out of AI – how are you doing in that, BTW? – and over hanging with the DN peeps… Don't worry about Static, he'll be back for a brief cameo, I promise! Pinkeye…? I swear we don't have that over here… Oh, and… I guess I'm one of those authors who sits in front of a computer all day doing nothing else, but I'm also one of those bitches that everyone hates who can stay really skinny without lifting a finger…:D); and **Simmie **(sorry for the late update! More shame on me, methinks! Yeah, Robin's life sucks – it's just gonna get worse, you know…).

Yay!

Armageddon

Robin paused on a rooftop, flipping open his communicator and eying the coordinates once more to be perfectly sure of where he was headed.

He gripped his staff in his hand, his knuckles white beneath the green of his glove.

His mouth was a firm, determined little line.

They were going to win.

It was war.

Armageddon.

And they were going to _win_.

—

Two green entities arced high above Jump City, visible against the cloudless blue sky.

Like a comet – made of emerald, or jade, or even _kryptonite_ – Starfire soared through the heavens, her long red hair whipping behind her as she cut through the air like a bladeknife. Beast Boy wasn't far behind her; a majestic albatross that glided on wide wings.

In the distance – but coming ever closer to them – the "T" that was their destination stood out starkly against the sky too.

Starfire paused just above the coastline of the city, looking out across the water at Titans Tower; squinting for a sign of Terra. Beast Boy halted beside her, flapping his wings; she extended an arm and he transformed back to his human form, whereupon she caught him before he fell.

"You think she's in there?" He asked softly.

"I do not know," Starfire replied quietly. "I suppose that we must go and look for ourselves."

"I… don't wanna hurt her, Star," Beast Boy said desperately.

Starfire was quiet for a few moments.

"Neither do I," she replied finally, her voice soft. "But there may still be hope, Beast Boy. Terra has good in her; perhaps she may even be reasoned with."

Beast Boy nodded and shifted again, this time taking the smaller form of an eagle, and the two Titans soared across the water to their home.

They knew nothing of what had gone on in that present that Robin and Raven had now altered, but the tower was perfectly restored, exactly as it should have been.

Landing on the tiny island – kicking up a cloud of dry dust – Starfire and Beast Boy looked up at Titans Tower, standing almighty like a god itself, towering above all else.

"No sign," Beast Boy acknowledged, looking around. "If she was here, the door would be smashed in by a boulder or something…"

Starfire nodded.

"Yes… but perhaps the back?"

Beast Boy nodded in reply.

"Alright, I'll check it out…" He transformed into a cheetah and dashed off. While he was gone, Starfire found a patch of long grass near the front door and hid the Clock of Eternity, wondering why Robin had even _had_ it. He surely had not had it with him when the fray had begun, but…

"Nothing at the back either."

Beast Boy was back. Starfire looked upwards.

"The roof, then?"

"What if she's not here?"

"Then we will call Robin and tell him," Starfire said decisively.

"Okay…" Beast Boy sounded defeated, but he changed to a green peregrine falcon and followed her up to the roof.

The trapdoor leading down into the tower's interior was smashed in.

"She's here," Beast Boy said jadedly, changing back as they landed.

Starfire put her hand to her friend's shoulder.

"Beast Boy, I do not wish to fight Terra either," she said softly. "But please, be more optimistic. Perhaps this is our chance to make her see that she was wrong to leave us for Slade; perhaps we may take her back… I do not believe that she is evil, Beast Boy; I truly do not."

Beast Boy smiled at the alien princess – wise, for all her naïveté.

"Let's do this…"

Starfire smiled in return and leapt down the smashed-in stairwell, landing on the boulder Terra had used to make her entrance. She swung off it, landing in a crouch in the top-floor corridor of the tower. A green bat fluttered down beside her and morphed into Beast Boy. The alien girl and the shape-shifter stood back to back, looking and listening for some sign of the blonde earthmover.

Their estranged, corrupted friend.

"Although we would cover more ground if we were to split up, I believe it would be best if we were to stick together," Starfire said after a few moments. "Terra is quite formidable."

Beast Boy nodded.

"Okay, good idea…"

Together, they started down the corridor. The top floor was simply closets and cupboards; making their way down the staircase – cautious all the time in case Terra was waiting to ambush them – Beast Boy and Starfire came to the corridor in which were the doors to all of the bedrooms.

No sign of her here either. No smashed-in doors, no muddy trail on the carpet…

"Where do you think she could be?" Starfire whispered.

"I'm not sure. I…" Beast Boy trailed off, his long pointed ears twitching as they picked up on something.

A very tiny, muffled sound.

"What is it, Beast Boy?" Starfire asked, her fists glowing green.

Beast Boy said nothing, motioning to her to follow him as he started down the corridor. She floated after him as he picked his way down the hall, following the sound he could hear. It was so quiet that even _her_ enhanced Tamaranean hearing could not catch it, but _he_ could hear something.

Beast Boy stopped first outside Robin's room; but then he moved on, shaking his head. He passed Raven's and Cyborg's, and Starfire's own room too, without stopping. He came to his own, stopped a while longer, but moved on again.

The last room had been Terra's.

"Beast Boy…" Starfire sounded shocked. "She is…?"

Beast Boy took a deep breath and slowly and quietly pushed down the handle, swinging the door open.

Starfire and Beast Boy stepped into the doorway together, silent and sorrowful.

Terra was sitting on the small couch in the middle of the room; her face in her hands, her sheet of corn-coloured hair over her face. The silver heart-shaped box Beast Boy had made and given to her as a gift the night she had betrayed them was in her lap.

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

* * *

Bringing the T-car to a screeching halt outside _Diamonds Are Forever_ – because they just _loved_ to rip off _James Bond_ – Cyborg turned off the ignition, turning to look at Raven.

She caught his eye and beamed at him. Obediently, she had not taken down her hood, nor allowed her cloak to fall back from her body.

Secrets were fun, after all.

Cyborg frowned at her.

"Uh, Ray… it's nice to see you so happy and all, but… are you sure you're okay?" He asked warily.

Raven smiled and nodded.

"Fine and dandy, Cyborg!" Her smile broadened. "I like you. You're my friend."

"_Yeah_…" Cyborg looked out of the car window; both the huge front windows of the jewelry store was smashed and empty, and from inside Cyborg could hear the Amazing Mumbo's trademark shrieks of "Mumbo Jumbo!" and "Abra Cadabra!".

A fluffy white rabbit hopped up onto the shattered window display, paused, looked around, and then leapt down and made off down the street.

"C'mon, Ray," Cyborg muttered. "Let's get this show on the road so we can get back to Robin. I don't like the thought of him facing that madman alone, not after what he did to him last time…"

"Robin got raped," Raven put in, unstrapping herself.

"We know, Raven," Cyborg replied coolly. "And Robin _certainly_ knows, so don't go saying that in front of him, okay?"

Raven's eyes glittered excitedly.

"Is it a _secret_?" She asked, as though she hardly dared believe it.

"No, it's just a real sensitive topic," Cyborg snapped, turning on her. "Yeez, Ray, what is _wrong_ with you? You're acting so… _not-like-you_… It's really creeping me out."

"I'm sorry." Raven hung her head.

Cyborg sighed.

"Look, it's okay, just stop being so weird, okay? Just be… _normal_. Which for you _is_ creepy, but… not _really_ creepy, because it's _normal_. What I'm saying is that _this_ behaviour is creepy because it's not your normal kind of creepy…"

Raven looked blankly at him and Cyborg gave up, getting out of the car.

"C'mon, let's just go put Mumbo's act on ice… And by ice, I do _not_ mean the kind he's stealing…"

Raven followed him out of the car and in through the broken window of _Diamonds Are Forever_. Firing up his proton cannon, Cyborg stopped and looked around. The first department of the shop was dark and empty; the lights had been blown out and both staff and customers had all fled in the time it had taken Cyborg and Raven to arrive at the scene. On the floor was a mess of stray rings, necklaces and earrings; coloured silk scarves pulled from Mumbo's top hat; at least three packets-worth of playing cards scattered around; and a few more rabbits.

"Ooh, a bunny!" Raven cried, reaching down and scooping one up as it sniffed at her feet. "I love bunnies!"

"No, you don't, Raven," Cyborg snapped, thoroughly wigged out by her behaviour now; he grabbed the rabbit out of her arms and set it down again unceremoniously. "You hate anything cute and fluffy. _Starfire_ loves "bunnies"; _you_ loathe them."

Raven looked confused.

"I do?"

"Yes." Cyborg gripped her wrist and pulled at her. "Now come on. Mumbo's on the move."

They moved through the first abandoned department, Cyborg practically dragging Raven, who was waving goodbye to the "bunnies". Cyborg paused, listening for some trace of Mumbo; he got his wish when a shrill scream drew them towards the third department.

_White Gold and Diamonds_.

Cyborg stepped over the broken sign that was on the floor instead of the wall, Raven following him like an obedient pony.

There was the Amazing Mumbo, standing atop the checkout desk, his hat in one hand with a whirlwind coming from it, sucking all of the surrounding glittering jewelry from its cases into the black endless interior of it. He shrieked with laughter as terrified shoppers screamed and ducked under counters and display cases. The checkout girl was bound and gagged on the floor, wrapped in more coloured silk scarves.

Cyborg stepped into the room, his cannon raised, Raven just behind him.

"Hey there, Mumbo," he greeted the villainous magician pleasantly. "Sorry we missed most of the show. Good thing we got here just in time for the finale…"

Mumbo's face fell for a moment; and he paused in his greedy raid of the white gold/diamond department of the store.

"Sorry, folks," he said cheerfully in his high-pitched nasally voice, pulling himself together again and whipping his hat back onto his head. "This show's a complete sell-out. No tickets left!"

He grinned, bowed and fled.

Cyborg groaned and pulled at Raven's wrist.

"Come on, this might take a while…"

Looking at her blank expression, he only sighed more deeply.

"Absolutely _surrounded_…"

* * *

Shielding his face from the blast, Robin waved away the smoke created by his explosive disks and popped a side kick at the wooden doors; with the chain that had been holding them together dealt with, they swung open with a bang and the Boy Wonder entered the forbidden section of the mine.

The diamond mines (and how ironic that Robin had the world's only blood-red diamond around his neck). How like Slade to come back here.

Well, he obviously didn't want the Titans showing up at his lair.

That; and he just liked to open old wounds time and time again.

This was where they had fought his minions the day that they met Terra; and where Robin had fought her those few weeks ago, just days before Slade had that arrow shot into his chest, putting that demon into him, _yada-yada_…

He was grimly surprised that Slade wasn't lurking in Arkham Asylum, actually. If choosing hiding places that _hurt_ his adversaries, then why not?

The diamond mines would hurt _Beast Boy_ more.

As for Arkham… Robin was never going _near_ that place again.

_Never_.

But Slade was_ here_; and Robin wasn't about to complain. It simply made _his_ job easier – on both the head and the heart. He was _surprised_ that Slade had chosen to make it easy for him.

And yes; this _was_ easy. A little _too_ easy; a little _too_ quiet.

There were no robotic minions waiting in the shadows for him; no snipers flinging explosive projectiles; no earth tremors caused by hidden mines.

Slade was either completely oblivious that Robin was coming for him; or he _wanted_ Robin to find him.

A shiver crawled down the Boy Wonder's spine; why did he get that uncanny feeling that it was the _second_ option?

Oh, _please_; this was _Slade_…

Was Robin afraid of him? Afraid of facing him? He hadn't seen him since…

_That_ night.

Arkham Asylum.

Oh, he had seen _Slade_. A Slade fifteen years older; a Slade that was mad – dangerous all the same, but truly _mad_.

Hell, he had _killed_ that Slade. Murdered him in… _hot_ blood. And that same crimson liquid had spattered up his face as he had pulled the trigger.

He _was_ a _murderer_.

The Boy Killer, not the Boy Wonder.

But not _this_ Slade. Not the Slade that had tormented him all these months; not the Slade that had blackmailed him, beaten him, lied to him, taunted him, tricked him, _raped_ him.

Oh, the Slade he had murdered had _done_ all those things as well; and to _him_.

But not him _exactly_.

To an _older_ him; to the boy who had grown up to be Nightwing.

To the boy – _man_ – he had eventually murdered in front of his mentor.

To Robin – but not to Robin _personally_.

It barely made sense, but he knew it to be true. And maybe that was why the guilt of shooting the madman had faded somewhat; because it felt like a dream to him. Like a videogame, or a movie he was somehow a part of.

It didn't feel _real_ – and _that_ was because he knew that somewhere in this mine, Slade was still waiting for him. In this world – in _his_ world – Slade still lived, and he still tormented.

And so it was not over.

It was _never_ over.

Robin came to another door and dispatched it in the same fashion as the first; and stepped into a dark room, smoke swirling around his feet and legs as though obedient, protecting of him.

He found himself on a balcony – metal, with an iron rail along the rim to stop miners from falling off it – which overlooked the rest of the room. And it was indeed a room – an ops centre, by the looks of it. Two digging machines were in the corner, there was a rack of protective orange coats, hard hats and plastic goggles along one wall, and a tall bulky metal-cased computer – shut down – with a comm. speaker unit. Wooden support beams ran along the stone ceiling, and from the floor upwards to keep the rocky ceiling secure.

Robin went to the edge of the balcony and looked down, leaning over it. He saw nothing, but got a grip on the rail and flipped himself over it, dropping to the ops room below and landing lightly. He straightened up and flicked his cape back from his shoulders, the Blood Diamond glittering against his crimson shirt.

He paused, cocking his head, and—

As usual, Slade was too quick and quiet for him.

"Ah, Robin. So nice of you to… _drop in_," the lunatic purred; oh, and what a _lethal_ lunatic he was…

There was a knife against Robin's throat.

Robin actually laughed, putting his head back a little.

"You're going to kill me already?"

Slade chuckled softly.

"Your arrogance never ceases to amuse me…"

But his "arrogance" appeared to have saved him; Slade removed the knife and kicked him in the back, pitching him to the ground.

"No, I believe we should have a little _sport_ first, hmm?" Slade went on, his voice a near-whisper. "For old time's sake? After all… you aren't leaving this mine alive."

Another smile stole across Robin's pale face at that; as he and Slade began to circle each other on a wide compass.

"Oh yes, your precious prophecy…" He raised his chin, still smirking; this time _he_ was the one baiting _Slade_, and it was an occurrence so rare – a _first_, in fact – that he could not help but relish it.

He knew he appeared arrogant; but that was the point.

That was the _act_.

Oh, he knew a thing or two about taunting himself...

Because _this_ Slade… still thought the "prophecy" was _real_.

"How's it going?" Robin cocked his head. "Unlocked that power yet?"

"You don't know what you're _talking_ about, boy," Slade snarled at him, low under his breath.

"Oh, but I do… You have to kill me, get a key… It's a whole big made-up bedtime story fairytale-type thing…"

Robin smiled.

"Here's a newsflash for you_… it's not real_."

Slade's eye did widen slightly.

And then it narrowed again.

"I suppose you fancy yourself as _amusing_, Robin?" He laughed sarcastically. "Learning of things you know nothing about, and then lying about them to me? You know _nothing_. All you are to me—"

"I am _nothing_," Robin cut in. "_I_ am not the "Avenger", and _you_ are not one of a "Chosen Few", Slade. It's all made-up; all a lie. Killing me won't bring you power; I'm not a warrior born to save the world. Your "seer" made it all up to—"

"_Be silent_!" Slade screamed at him. "I don't know how you have learned of these things, but you know _nothing_. Your death will bring me power beyond belief, and I intend to _have_ that power. _You_ will not stand in my way, Robin, and you will not wriggle away as you have done so many times before. I am unsure how I will do it. Perhaps I will beat you to death, perhaps I will snap your neck, perhaps I will disembowel you with your own sharpened weapons, but know this; today, Robin, you will die, and it will be by _my_ hand."

Robin's smile faded away on those words. Slade could not be reasoned with; would not listen, would not believe that his "seer" had lied to him and used him.

Well, perhaps it _was_ a little complicated to start explaining to his arch-nemesis – a man who wanted him dead.

It left him with one option to end this; otherwise Slade would just keep on and on trying to assassinate him, regardless of the fact that it was obvious – to Robin at least – that the "seer" was not going to be showing up again, since "she" was dead.

Seth Elliott had been destroyed by Raven's hidden power.

And so Robin had to destroy the Orb of Azarath all over again.

The one of _this_ time.

And there it was; Slade had been stupid enough (and Slade being so foolish was a rarity in itself) to bring it with him and put it on top of the metal computer in the corner, nestled in its platinum cradle.

If he destroyed it, Slade would believe it to be over; that he could not have that power, and it wouldn't even _matter_ that he had never believed that it had all been a lie.

It was the only plan he _had_.

"I'm not going to let you kill me," he spat.

"Oh, I've no doubt that you won't _let_ me kill you," Slade agreed, "but I'm going to kill you all the same. In fact, I rather think that if you simply stood still and _allowed_ me to break your spine, it wouldn't be nearly as fun. Please, _do_ struggle and attempt to escape. The thought of it makes me want to kill you all the more."

"You're sick," Robin hissed.

Slade lazily put his head to one side.

"I know."

And then he lunged.

Robin dived low to avoid the knife-like blow that had been coming at his head, tumbling between Slade's legs and scraping to a halt behind him. In an instant he was back on his feet, snapping a switch kick at Slade's spine; but Slade was there, already facing him, and he parried Robin's foot and caught his ankle, throwing him aside like a rag doll.

Robin righted himself in midair, twisting over and landing in a crouch, from which he dived upwards and swung his whole body around into a flying roundhouse kick. This time his heel caught Slade full in the chest, sending him backwards; Robin landed and sprung upwards again, spinning into a dragonfly kick that sent Slade to the ground. And as Slade hit the ground on his back, Robin was already leaping at him again, jabbing his elbow downwards.

He didn't care where it connected with Slade; throat, chest, stomach, crotch…

It didn't connect with him at all; Slade swung his legs up and kicked Robin aside, catching the side of his ribcage. Robin felt a dull cracking somewhere and hit the ground; lifting his head with a groan, clutching at his ribs. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, adrenaline numbing the pain as he got to his knees, and then his feet.

He faced Slade, defiantly taking his hand from his ribcage even though it ached like…

…_hell_.

Slade's eye flashed.

"As determined as ever." He laughed, his voice like velvet. "I'm glad to see it… I'd hate for our last ever face-off to be a letdown, wouldn't you?"

"_You're_ the one who's in for a _letdown_," Robin snapped. "You aren't getting that power."

"That's what you think…"

_That's what I __**know**__…_

Robin shifted his weight, spreading his legs a little; and then, remembering that kick to the crotch he had received from the _other_ Slade, he made a mental note not to _leave_ them that way.

He snapped his staff from his belt and shot it out, gripping it in both hands as Slade came at him again; using it like a bar, he stopped Slade's hammer blow and shoved upwards against it with all of his strength, pushing Slade's hands up and leaving his chest and midsection vulnerable. He cracked a scissor kick straight out at Slade's stomach, driving him backwards, and then spun into a reverse kick.

Slade caught his foot and allowed him to lose his balance, falling backwards; but Slade didn't let his foot go, dragging him upwards by his ankle so that he had him dangling upside-down.

And then he dropped his arm so that Robin banged his head on the stone floor.

The Boy Wonder hung limply in his grip as he raised his arm again, nearly knocked out.

Slade flung him across the room.

Robin smacked into the opposite wall and crumpled, practically unconscious. His head pounded – absolute _agony_ – and he could feel blood trickling through his hair and down one side of his face. Lifting his head – it felt as though Slade had split it _open_ – he watched the villain approach him through hazy vision.

At least this Slade didn't have a _gun_…

Again, Robin crawled to his knees; and used the wall to _drag_ himself to his feet.

This was Arkham Asylum all over again…

But his staff was still in his hand; and his determination still in his heart.

He only hoped it would be _enough_.

Slade came at him again – merciless – and Robin pushed away from the wall up into an axe kick, bringing his heel down hard on Slade's shoulder; and it only hit Slade's _shoulder_ because Slade had moved his _head_. Robin landed in a crouch and twisted his body into a rear sweep, intending to hook Slade's feet out from under him; Slade backflipped out of his reach and Robin paused on his knees for a split-second, biting his lip against the cracking pain in his skull. The blood was running into his left eye and down his left cheek.

Standing up, he gripped his staff and steadied himself; blocking the next blow to his face on his forearm and twisting his hand to grip Slade's wrist. He used his grasp to get some leverage, swung his left leg up and cracked it outwards.

The dull _pop_ he heard was rewarding and he smiled, letting go of Slade and dropping to a crouch as the madman staggered aside, hissing in agony.

Slade didn't scream.

But Robin had dislocated his arm.

Slade somehow regained control over the agony and wheeled on Robin, the punch full-on and powerful. Robin had no time to block and the blow hit him straight in the face; his nose broke and began to stream blood down into his mouth. He staggered backwards and collapsed, tripping over himself. His vision went black and he was only dimly away of the heavy saltiness that was consuming his senses…

Seeing that the boy had blacked out, Slade ignored him and crossed to one of the support beams going from floor to ceiling to stop it from caving in. He managed to wrap both arms around it and put his strong hand over the dislocated arm to hold it in place; and then pushed up and in against it. Despite the awkward angle, there was enough force behind it to snap it back into its joint.

Slade hissed again; but did not scream.

Damn that boy…

He exhaled deeply and flexed his arm experimentally. It still ached, but he had fixed it.

And _now_…

Slade was in fact _impressed_ that Robin had managed to dislocate his arm; almost _proud_ of him.

But pain… It was a thing that Slade liked to inflict on others; not something he liked to feel himself. Pain reminded him that he was human; vulnerable.

It pissed him off.

He crossed to Robin. The teenager was on his back, unconscious, his face bloody; he gave a little gurgling cough and Slade smirked.

He was drowning in his own blood.

It would have been easy to leave him that way and let him die. But Slade did not want to; not because he _pitied_ him.

No, because _he_ wanted to kill him. Breaking his nose and letting him drown was boring.

Slade reached down and kicked Robin onto his front, then hauled him to his feet by his cape. One well-placed jerk under his ribcage was enough to force the blood out of his lungs and make him cough himself awake.

He gave Robin a hard push in the back that sent him staggering forwards; barely conscious, it was all Robin could do not to keel over again. He stumbled away and righted himself, moaning under his breath.

His head screamed. His nose screamed. His ribcage screamed. The rest of him wasn't faring too great either.

_Why_ did he always insist that he fight Slade alone? First in Arkham, where he had cut off all means of communication; and now _this_, where he had sent the rest for the team off to fight other threats.

Terra and Mumbo.

He heard Slade behind him again and rallied his strength, swinging his staff around; Slade caught it and reversed the blow, pitching Robin onto his back. The villain raised his foot to stomp Robin's head into the stone floor and the Boy Wonder rolled aside, standing and backflipping.

It was not graceful or acrobatic; in fact, the state he was in barely allowed for it at all. But he had got away from Slade again, and that was what mattered. He whipped a birdarang from his belt and rushed Slade again, almost blinded by blood; once more, Slade caught his kick and pushed it away, spinning Robin to the floor.

Robin twisted, landed in a crouch, and swung his birdarang upwards.

It sank into Slade's thigh.

Slade didn't utter a sound as a spray of blood accompanied the sharp pain in his leg; and still with it sunk into him, he kicked Robin in the stomach, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up. Robin twisted feebly in his grip, tears of agony running down his face and sluicing clear tracks through the blood. Slade extracted the staff from his hand and swung it backwards against one of the support beams.

The staff snapped and Slade dropped the part he still held (the bottom two thirds), while the top third flew across the room and hit the stone wall with a _clink_.

Slade's strong hand moved to the front of Robin's throat, choking him, as the boy kicked and writhed weakly in his cruel grasp. He squeezed and Robin gasped and clawed at his hand; but Slade only smiled.

He didn't want to kill Robin _this_ way.

He waited until Robin was _almost_ completely out of it, and then lowered him and draped him over one knee, the curve of his thigh finding the small of the Boy Wonder's back. The hand at Robin's throat moved to his upper chest, the other going across his lower thighs.

With another smile, Slade began to push downwards agonizingly slowly.

The pain shooting up his spine woke Robin right up; he coughed again as blood began to pool at the back of his throat and in his nasal cavity.

He realized that Slade was going to break his back.

He groaned with the strain of it on his spine as Slade pushed down ever so slowly; and then gave a choking scream as an excruciating pain shot up the length of it like an electric shock.

He was going to die unless he—

He flailed out wildly, gritting his teeth, choking on his own blood, and his hand found the birdarang that was still embedded in Slade's thigh.

Mercilessly, he rammed the flat of his hand against it, forcing the whole of one wing right into Slade's leg; cutting right through to the bone and beyond…

Slade gave a little cry of pain and let go of Robin; the boy kicked away from him but Slade lashed at him again, catching the front of his shirt.

"_NO_!" Robin twisted away desperately, wrenching his shirt out of Slade's hand and tumbling backwards.

The chain of the Blood Diamond broke and the glittering scarlet jewel came away in Slade's fist.

Slade wrenched the birdarang out of his thigh and angrily threw it aside – it hit the far wall and shattered.

And then he opened his palm and looked at the diamond.

His gaze flickered up to Robin, who was dabbing at his broken nose with his cape; and then went back to the necklace again.

And it came upon him like the sun rising.

"_This_," he said lazily, swinging the glimmering jewel by its snapped chain, "is the key to the Orb of Azarath."

"No, it isn't," Robin lied weakly, his voice desperate. "It's just some stupid necklace I—"

"It's the _key_, you lying little son-of-a-bitch!" Slade interrupted him furiously.

Robin flinched at that remark; the jibe at his dead mother.

And he got up _because_ of it.

"Let's be honest, Robin," Slade hissed; "Necklaces aren't your kind of thing, especially anything _this_ gaudy…"

The necklace glittered as he swung it to and fro; as though attempting to hypnotise the boy before him.

"I would ask why _you_ have it," he murmured, turning away. "But it hardly matters. I have it now, and _you_… you will now _die_!"

He whipped around to face Robin, his one eye crazed, promising a bloody and painful death—

Robin was gone.

Slade started; he had truly been expecting…

He turned again and found Robin across the room scrambling upwards, using the ancient computer's keyboard as a foothold to reach up towards the Orb of Azarath—

Moving like lightning, Slade snatched up the longer part of the broken staff; and the end of it had snapped at a sharp angle, so that it was like a stake or a javelin.

He came to the computer. He grabbed Robin by his hair and dragged him downwards. He turned him around and slammed him against the black screen.

And then he thrust the staff through his stomach.

It burst right through him in a shower of bloody rain, piercing the screen and going right inside the dead computer, pinning the Boy Wonder in place like a butterfly on a collector's display board.

Robin screamed.

* * *

Tune in next time for the conclusion of each battle (or, in the case of BB and Star vs Terra, the beginning of the battle)!

Poor, poor Robin… :)

I _promise_ I will update sooner! I proooooooomise!

Thankyou so much for being so patient!

- RobinRocks

xXx


	34. War Games

OMFG… I am so slooooooooooooooooooooow…!

Okay, okay, other half the epic battle royale-ness here! Star and BB vs Terra the Biznatch, Robin vs Slade and the Skewer of Doom, and Raven and Cyborg vs Mumbo and a lot of bunnies…

This chapter contains closure to a lot of things that have been going on since _Asylum/Black Magic_, so yay for that!

Thankyou to: **Dragonprincess1988 **(well, I'm glad you think so!); **Amara-chan **(thankyou very much! I used to do a lot of research for fight scenes, as well as incorporating moves from _Buffy_ and video games – half the moves Robin does in my fics are swiped from _Tekken's_ Ling Xiaoyu!); **Narroch** (hey! I wouldn't kill Robin… more than once… in a fic… Lucky for him, Raven is a lame cop-out healer!); **Banan-nonne** (firstly, nice to see you skulking around over at _Poison Apple_ as well! And nooooooooo… Robin's not going to die. Now _L_, on the other hand…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(well, in that case, have as much medication as you like! This chapter is much longer, too!); **Me** (…Robin gets skewered, and all you can think is "Gee, what a pretty butterfly that guy makes!". Epic job, dude.); **Guardian of Azarath **(I love your shameless "Ah, just kill him again…" reply. And wow, you fail even more at updating than I do!); **LoopyLouise123 **(keep on hoping, because our boy Robin isn't quite down and out yet! And yes, Slade is bonkers. Like we didn't know _that_ already…); **Someone** (you BETCHA Raven is being ODD!); **Simmie **(you got that right about pesky cheerleader Buffy-bot Raven! And the Terra fight is up first!); **The Fate of an Amaryllis **(no, Seth won't be back. He was cursed that only one of him could exist throughout the entirety to the space-time continuum. The GCMC logo wasn't really based to the HD logo – I just kind of made it up, tough it does look a little like it, I guess…); and **Chanceless **(hey, you're still in AI, dude? Well done, you did better than me! Ugh, NaNo – no, I don't do NaNo, nor will I ever. I think I write over 50k words a month anyway, to be honest… And BE PATIENT about Static! He'll be here, very briefly, soon enough! He's definitely in it, I remember writing him in! He only says like two lines, but he's THERE! And _Death Note_… is incredible. I demand that you go and watch it right now. Never mind this chapter. Forget this chapter! _Death Note_ beckons!)

Nyes, and now that I have finished endorsing _other_ things…

War Games

Terra had not noticed their presence.

Beast Boy swallowed, his ears drooping; Starfire's hands faded and powered down.

Together, the two Teen Titans stepped into the room.

Terra started, lifting her head with a gasp; the tracks of tears staining her pale face.

She looked at them both for a moment or two, her expression a mixture of sorrow and horror.

And then her face twisted and her eyes glowed gold and her hair lifted.

She stood, throwing the box aside; it tumbled across the floor and hit the wall.

The mirror cracked.

And so did Beast Boy's heart.

"Terra, please-" he started desperately.

Terra ignored him, her hands glowing amber too; and she lunged at Starfire instead. The alien princess dove aside, kicking her Tamaranean power into action and taking to the air.

"Terra, _please_, we desire only to talk!" She cried, putting her hands up to calm the crazed girl. "We do not wish to battle with you!"

"You have no choice!" Terra screamed at her, employing her own power and lifting the pieces of rubble still lying around her room from the destruction Slade's minions had wrought upon Titans Tower the night she had left.

She shot them at Starfire, who dodged some and struck out at others, her alien strength shattering them to showers of dust and pebbles. Her eyes glowed green and she lifted her head, becoming angry.

"Terra, I do not want to fight you, and I do not understand why you do these things, but we will _stop_ you," she vowed.

"Oh yeah?" Terra sneered at her; the girl so many light-years away from the thirty-one year old version who had fought bravely and virtuously at Robin's side in that devastated future world. "Not if I kill you first, you alien bitch…"

Another chunk of rubble – larger than all of the others – smashed into Starfire's back, sending the alien girl across the room and out of the window, smashing it. Starfire uttered a short scream as her body shattered the glass and she disappeared from view, her shock disabling her flight ability momentarily.

"_STAR_!" Beast Boy yelled; scared for her despite the fact that he knew she would right herself before she hit the ground.

He turned on Terra with a low snarl.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" He snapped. "You're part of the team, then you betray us, then you help us remove the demon from Robin's body in Azarath, and now you try to _kill_ us? You're supposed to be our _friend_!"

Terra wiped away the tears on her cheeks fiercely.

"I don't _need_ any friends!" She spat.

Beast Boy stared at her for a moment of two, speechless.

"Terra, what has he _done_ to you?" He asked softly, reaching for her.

Terra shrank back from him.

"He _helped_ me!" She shrieked dementedly. "He _saved_ me!"

She lunged for him; Beast Boy morphed into a mouse, dropped to the floor and skittered away across the room like lightning. He leapt out of the smashed window and transformed midair to the form of a buzzard.

Better to take this outside.

Starfire arose beside him, her eyes and hands flaring and her hair whipping around her shoulders. She had a few little cuts on her honey-coloured skin from the broken glass, but was otherwise unscathed.

"She is quite insane," she said, her voice steely. She turned to Beast Boy. "She wishes to destroy us and our home; all that we stand for. We must _stop_ her, Beast Boy – we simply _must_."

The green buzzard nodded slowly; Starfire was angry, and now so was he.

He loved Terra.

But that didn't mean he was going to let her _destroy_ him and his friends.

Terra came bursting out of the window, soaring atop another flat piece of rubble – it looked as though it had been part of a wall at some point – her long gold hair flapping behind her and her eyes blazing yellow. She arced over them; and Starfire followed her movement, pealing an emerald beam from her eyes after her. Terra swooped away from it and hurtled towards the ground where she had a better advantage.

"Beast Boy, intercept her!" Starfire cried, nose-diving after her.

The green buzzard darted downwards, overtaking first Starfire and then Terra; he somersaulted to hit the ground on his feet, and during that somersault became a tyrannosaurus rex, rearing up and giving a guttural roar.

Above, Starfire rallied her righteous fury and fired off a round of starbolts at Terra's mode of transport. Each one glanced off, bringing with it dust and chunks of the flat piece of stone. Upping her ante, Starfire put her hands together and shot a single powerful blast right at the chunk of rubble; it cracked into about eight pieces and Terra fell, plummeting screaming towards the ground, where that green T-rex was waiting for her…

Beast Boy was cautious in catching her; rough and clumsy due to his size, but not brutal. He did not want to bite her in half. He caught the back of her black crop top in his front teeth and tossed her to the ground, where she skidded to a halt among the dust and dry mud and grass of Titans Island. They were at the back of the tower, and there was more land out back.

Which wasn't _really_ a good thing, considering Terra wasn't on their side…

But it gave Starfire and Beast Boy more room to manoeuvre, a forte that they intended to use to their advantage.

Terra leapt to her feet, pushing away the dazed feeling, and stood firm even though the ground shook as Beast Boy came towards her, each footstep of his _terrible lizard_ form resonating.

Her eyes glowed gold once more and she shot up a wall of dust and dry mud at the dinosaur's face, blinding him. Beast Boy roared in distress and reared, backing up a few steps.

Terra smirked in victory—

--and was then sent to the ground on her face by a barrelling blow from behind by Starfire.

Starfire somersaulted over her and landed gracefully on her feet.

"You will not hurt my friends," she snarled, her Tamaranean savagery beginning to show through the cracks in her sweet persona that anger caused. "_Any_ of them!"

Terra raised her head and Starfire clenched her fists as she saw her former friend's eyes glowing like the sun once again.

A ribbon of rock burst upwards from the ground, winding itself tightly around Starfire like a hungry anaconda; and then began to squeeze the breath out of the young Tamaranean's lungs. Starfire let out a gasping scream of pain, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

Terra laughed insanely, her hair whipping about her face as she crushed the alien princess—

A green whip-like tail lashed out at her, sending her careening to one side; Terra hit the ground with a muffled grunt, looking up at the monstrous green diplodocus that towered above her, bellowing harshly.

Her hold relinquishing over the rock, Starfire was able to flex her muscles and break free, shattering the stone that had held her. She rose into the air again, her eyes blazing.

"You begin to try my patience!" She snapped angrily. "You were our friend, and now you attack us as though we have done terrible things to you! You are nothing but a _klorkvarbler_!"

Terra rose again, smirking.

"And _you're dead_," she hissed.

A hand of mud reared from beneath the surface of the river and grabbed hold of Starfire, pinning her arms to her sides and dragging her under the water.

The diplodocus roared and raised his front feet; in his anger attempting to stamp the blonde earthmover flat.

Terra rolled aside and rose herself up on a pillar of earth so that her face was level with that of Beast Boy.

"I never thought you were a _coward_, BB," she said maliciously, her smile still on her face. "But what else can you be, if all you will transform to is so much bigger and stronger than me? Afraid to fight like a _man_?"

She leapt back off her pillar and slid right down it to the ground again; and Beast Boy went down with her, morphing back to his regular form.

"Terra, why are you doing this?" He asked, clenching his fists. "Why are you trying to hurt us?"

"I'm not _trying_," Terra implicited nastily, thumbing over her shoulder to the bubbles that were rising to the surface of the river around the tower; evidence of where Starfire was being held under the surface. "I _am_ hurting you."

"_Why_?" Beast Boy asked forlornly. "What did we ever _do_ to you?"

Terra's expression flickered slightly; and then she restored her sneer.

"Why _not_?"

"Because we're your _friends_!"

Terra's smile – arrogant or not – snapped off her face.

"I told you, I don't need any friends!" She screamed; ripping up a half-buried boulder from the earth and plowing it right into the green-skinned shape-shifter.

A sudden bubbling sound from behind her made her turn towards the river; sure enough, on the surface, hundreds of bubbles were coming to the top, and steam began to rise from the surface too, as though the water was…

…_boiling_…

There was an explosion beneath the surface that showered water upwards and outwards like a fountain; and from the centre of it Starfire rocketed upwards into the sky with a primal scream of rage. Her eyes were positively on fire with her alien power, as were her hands, and she was utterly soaked through, her purple and silver uniform clinging wetly to her body and her red hair hanging in wet straggled rat's-tails.

"_Heska vo_," the alien girl hissed savagely in her native tongue. She turned her feral gaze on Terra, who actually looked rather alarmed by Starfire's re-entrance to the fray.

Starfire's gaze briefly flickered to Beast Boy as he struggled to get to his feet – bruised and battered by that boulder – and then her fury was focused on the geomancer once more. She warmed up her hands and then shot at Terra, firing off starbolts in merciless succession straight at her.

Terra shielded her face and then was enveloped by a cloud of dust that Starfire's starbolts kicked up; the alien girl kept on firing even though she could no longer see her target. Her rage was such now that she was almost beyond reasoning with—

"Star, _STARFIRE_!" Beast Boy yelled up at her. "Stop, you're going to _kill_ her!"

Starfire gave a sudden little gasp and snapped out of her crazed assault, floating down to land next to Beast Boy.

_Almost_ beyond.

Beast Boy gave a little shiver as he looked at his friend; as much as he and the others loved her, he had to admit she scared him sometimes, and not _just_ because of the horrible Tamaranean dishes she cooked up…

Starfire shoved her wet hair back and turned to Beast Boy; the dust still hadn't cleared around Terra.

"You are unharmed?"

Beast Boy nodded sadly.

"I don't know what's got into her, Star…"

"Some _sense_…"

Starfire gasped as she and Beast Boy whipped around; Terra was behind them, smiling.

She was not, however, immaculate; Starfire's attack had taken its toll on her, for her clothing was a little ripped and she bled some.

It was clear she was far from throwing in the towel, however.

"Terra, this _must_ end!" Starfire said firmly.

Terra cocked her head to one side.

"You're right…" Her hair fell across her right eye and she smirked. "So let's _end_ it!"

She clapped her hands together and the piece of ground that Beast Boy and Starfire were standing on cracked down the middle and began to rise, folding in on itself like a book being closed.

With the alien girl and the shape-shifter in the middle of the "pages".

Starfire put her hands out, starting to push against the two slabs that threatened to crush them.

"Beast… Boy!" She groaned, perspiration and water running down her face as she strained against Terra's will over the earth itself. "_Get… her_!"

Beast Boy became a spider, scuttling out between the two pieces of rock; and then transformed into a bull, charging at Terra. He hit her in the stomach with his head and tossed her aside, winding her. Behind him, the rock shattered as Starfire brought starbolts to her palms and pushed outwards with them. Within moments, the alien girl was back at his side again.

Terra staggered to her feet to find them advancing upon her; for the first time since their fight had begun, she began to grow afraid.

She had underestimated them even though she had been on their team; she _knew_ how strong they were, and yet she had thought they might hold back on her because of who she _was_.

And at first they _had_, but…

But now it was clear they had had enough.

She had thought she might have an easy time with _these_ two; Beast Boy – the goofy little green shape-shifter with a soft spot for her; and Starfire – the sweet, naïve, kind-hearted alien princess.

Had it been Robin, or Raven, or even _Cyborg_, she would have not taken it as lightly.

Now it appeared that she had made a grave mistake in underestimating Starfire and Beast Boy.

She flung an arsenal of rocky projectiles at them, backing away.

They simply cut them aside; Starfire either blasting them to nothing with her eyes or her starbolts or catching them in her hand and crushing them to dust. They didn't hurt Beast Boy in his elephant form.

And then Starfire unleashed another cordon of starbolts at her, driving her backwards; beginning to panic, Terra put up a wall of rock to protect herself. Every starbolt put another crack in it, but it held—

Until Beast Boy ran into it, shattering it.

Terra screamed, shielding her face and stumbling back; Starfire soared towards her, bringing her hands back and swinging them at Terra in a hammer blow that caught her in the gut. Terra tumbled backwards, scraping to a stop several feet away.

She had given her all and they were still beating her.

She had to retreat.

Perhaps Slade would punish her; but it was better than being killed by Starfire and Beast Boy.

She stood and backed away; then raised a swirling storm of dust and earth around herself and them, obscuring their vision.

"Where is she?" Starfire cried, coughing.

"I don't know!" Beast Boy yelled back, groping for her in the midst of the dusty storm. He found Starfire's wrist and clutched it; Starfire lifted upwards and flew above the storm, taking Beast Boy with her.

Below them, the whirlwind of dust died down and was no more; and Starfire and Beast Boy watched the figure fading fast into the distance.

Terra making a getaway on another boulder.

Starfire clenched her fists.

"We cannot let her escape, Beast Boy," she snarled. "We must follow her!"

Beast Boy nodded grimly and changed into an albatross; and together he and Starfire went after her – back across the water and over Jump City.

On Titans Island, at the back, partially buried by the dust that had been Terra's escape cloak, was a small white square.

The wind touched it, flipping it over.

A photograph of Terra and Beast Boy; both smiling.

On the back was a message, written in neat black ink;

_You and me forever, BB XXX_

The dusty winds of change blew again, taking it into the river; where the message was washed away and eventually the photograph itself sank below the surface to be submerged forever.

Nobody ever found it.

* * *

Near-dragging Raven, Cyborg kicked in another doorway and entered yet another trashed and abandoned department, his proton cannon raised and ready.

"You know, this isn't as easy as I thought it was gonna be," the half-robot muttered darkly to himself. "I actually didn't count on him _running away from us_…"

"Perhaps he is hiding," Raven said happily.

_**I'm**__ on the verge of hiding too_, Cyborg thought dryly.

She was _really_ freaking him out, to put it mildly… He had a feeling that Robin might know a thing or two about it, but right now, that wasn't an issue.

They had to stop Mumbo; and that was _difficult_, because Mumbo had scarpered. Raven was probably right; the guy probably _was_ hiding.

So now they had to _find_ him…

Cyborg looked around, adjusting the frequency of his mechanical eye to pick up the multiple sub-harmonics in the EM spectrum – that phrasing that had so confused Beast Boy during their search for Red X.

Cyborg grinned despite himself.

But there was nothing here.

With a sigh he turned back to Raven…

…finding her across the other side of the room, picking up scattered jewelry and piling it up in one arm.

Cyborg groaned in frustration and marched across the room towards her.

"Ray, put that stuff down!" He snapped. "We've got a job to do!"

Raven looked up at him, blinking.

"But we can't leave it all on the floor!" She said, sounding horrified. "It's too pretty…"

Losing his patience with her, Cyborg reached out and snatched all of the glittering jewelry away from her, throwing it aside.

Raven looked at him for a moment or two.

"You're mean," she said finally with conviction.

"Uh-huh." Cyborg dragged her away irritably. "And take that stupid ring off!" He snapped at her, seeing the ruby and platinum ring on her finger. "You can't keep it; that's stealing, and _that's_ what we're here to stop _Mumbo_ for!"

Raven pulled herself away from him.

"This is _my_ ring!" She said angrily.

"_I've_ never seen you wearing it before," Cyborg said coolly, looking back at her.

She put her other hand over the ring and recoiled from him, as though she thought he was going to snatch it off her finger.

"It's _mine_!" She insisted. "Robin gave it to me."

"Say what?" Cyborg really _did_ stop and look at her now. "No he didn't! Why would _Robin_ buy you a ring?"

"He _did_ give it to me!" Raven said hysterically. "He did, _he did_!"

"Yeah?" Cyborg snatched her wrist and pulled her hand right up so that he could see the ring. "Ray, this ring must be worth at _least_ the other side of two thousand bucks. What is it, white gold? Come on, where is _Robin_ going to get two thousand dollars for a wretched ring? And _why_ would he give you a ring anyway? It's not like you're _marrying_ him or anything! You aren't even _dating_ him!"

Raven snatched her hand back.

"I didn't steal it!" She snapped furiously. "It's _mine_!"

Cyborg eyed her warily; he knew it wasn't wise to make Raven angry.

He had a plan forming anyway…

"Alright, whatever," he muttered. "We have to find Mumbo before he-"

Cyborg was cut off as the door from the next department banged open and someone ran in. Turning, he almost laughed; it was none other than Mumbo.

The blue-faced magician screeched to a halt and stared at them in dismay.

"Oh, f-… _iddlesticks_!" Mumbo composed himself and beamed. "No time to sign autographs! This is only a matinee!"

He turned on his heel and skittered back in the opposite direction.

"Oh no you don't!" Cyborg roared after him, shooting out his right hand on a grapple-like cable; it wrapped around Mumbo's ankles and tripped him up, pitching him onto his face. Mumbo let out a high-pitched startled cry as Cyborg gave a tug on the cable and began to drag the magician across the marble floor towards him.

"Raven, get his wand!" Cyborg called.

Raven nodded, beaming, and raised her arms.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" She cried; and Mumbo's wand glowed black and flew out of his hand into hers.

"_NO_!" Mumbo squealed, flailing like a landed fish on Cyborg's line.

Raven grinned and snapped the wand in two.

There was a sudden _poof_ of pink glittering smoke; and when it cleared the "Amazing Mumbo" was amazing no more.

Simply a normal-looking fellow in a white shirt, brown slacks and little tufts of white hair sticking out from either side of his head; surrounded by loose cash and jewelry of all varieties.

"Not so much a _grand_ finale," Cyborg quipped with a broad grin, "but I have to say I like it…"

He nodded to Raven.

"C'mon, Ray…"

He threw Mumbo over one shoulder and marched out of the department back out to the front of the store; Raven ran after him clutching the two pieces of wand, as much of a skip in her step that her heavy state of pregnancy would allow.

She and Cyborg reached the first department to find that the police had arrived and were putting up police tape barricades and questioning employees. Cyborg handed over Mumbo, posed for a picture or two with a big enthusiastic grin, and signed an autograph for some policeman's son.

And then he put his plan into action.

The _Diamonds Are Forever_ manager was answering police questions; Cyborg waited until he was done and then took him aside, grasping Raven and dragging her with him too.

"Just wondering," the half-robot asked smugly, "if that ring she's wearing is one of yours."

The manager threw him a puzzled look, but held out a hand to Raven.

"May I see, my dear?"

She eyed them both warily; and then put out her hand for the store manager to examine her ring. The man pulled a loupe out of the top pocket of his suit jacket and took a good long hard look; and eventually he straightened up, shaking his head.

"I regret to say that it isn't," he said. "Shame; it's a beautiful piece of work. Fine craftsmanship – platinum and ruby. Very expensive. But not one of ours. Why do you ask?"

Cyborg was staring at Raven, who smiled sweetly at him in reply.

"N… nothing," Cyborg muttered; he clapped the manager on the back. "Nothing at all. Um, so… we caught Mumbo for you, so we'll just be on our way then!"

Cyborg laughed nervously and gave everybody a huge cheesy grin as he walked stiffly out of the store, tugging Raven with him. They got back into the car and pulled across their seatbelts, but Cyborg did not start the ignition; instead simply sitting there in silence, drumming his metal fingers on the wheel irritably.

Raven pulled down her hood and stared out of the window at the glittering city outside.

Cyborg gazed at her; at the back of her head – her neat, short, shining violet hair. She looked normal from behind; like _Raven_. Like he could say something to her and she would answer him without even turning to him; her voice deadpan, her tone wise.

"Raven?"

She turned her head towards him, a big smile on her face.

He shivered. It wasn't that didn't look nice when she smiled – in fact, she was even _prettier_ when she did.

But _Raven_ didn't act like this.

Even _Starfire_ didn't act like this.

It unnerved him; and he could tell that it unnerved the others too, although Robin seemed like he had been trying to cover it up…

He and Robin needed to have a little talk; because Cyborg was getting the sudden uncanny feeling that he had… _missed_ something here…

"Ray, where did you get that ring?" The cybernetic teen asked wearily.

Raven's expression darkened; to the point where she almost looked like herself.

"_Robin_ gave it to me!" She said again, sounding near tears. "_Why_ won't you believe me?"

"Because I don't see _why_ Robin would give you a ring, and _where_ he would get the money for it!" Cyborg snapped in exasperation.

"Why don't you _ask_ him then?" Raven replied sulkily. "He _did_ give it to me. He told me to never take it off."

Cyborg shook his head resignedly and used the comm. device built into his arm to connect to Robin's communicator. They had to tell Robin that Mumbo was dealt with anyway.

It rang for a very long time.

And then, just when Cyborg was about to give up, there was a click and a crackle of static. No picture came up, but there was audio.

"Robin?" Cyborg asked cautiously. "You alright, man?"

There was a little chuckle of laughter on the other end that froze the blood in the biological parts of Cyborg's body.

_Slade_.

"Robin can't talk to you right now, I'm afraid," Slade purred through the communicator's speaker. "He's going through some things. Or rather… he's got some _things_ _going through_ _him_…"

"Slade!" Cyborg spat. "What have you-?"

There was a sudden cracking sound and the line cut off completely.

His heart racing, Cyborg turned the key, threw the car into gear and roared out into the street, streaking and then skidding round the corner out onto the main road.

They _had_ to get to those diamond mines.

"Cyborg, what is going on?" Raven asked frantically.

"I don't know," Cyborg replied shakily. "I don't know, Ray… I think Robin's in real trouble…"

Raven turned away, pulling up her hood, as she stared out of the window again as the lights of the city flashed past.

Cyborg was _way_ over the speed limit.

Putting a hand to her swollen belly, Raven's eyes flashed.

In the wing mirror – although no-one saw – her reflection showed four crimson slits beneath her hood.

The mirror cracked.

Cyborg drove on.

* * *

Robin screamed long and hard as the staff went through him; it was utterly indescribable – above and beyond any pain he had _ever_ felt before.

His broken nose, bumped head and cracked rib suddenly seemed so _superficial_ in comparison.

Slade let go of the staff and folded his arms.

Still Robin _screamed_.

Because it was run right through him; and pinning him there.

Skewered like a dead butterfly.

Eventually his scream died; became a groan, and then a whimper. His head dropped against his chest as blood began to soak into his shirt and spandex pants from the front, and the back—

Slade noticed that it was dribbling down the computer to the floor from where Robin was impaled against it.

He smiled.

The Avenger was _dying_.

He reached out and raised Robin's head; he knew it could take a little while for him to die, because it was through his stomach. Had it been through his heart or lungs…

Still, Slade wanted to _savour_ this; he was willing to wait.

"That looks like it _hurts_," Slade murmured cruelly.

Robin defiantly pulled his head away, trying to lift one of his hands to catch at Slade.

Slade laughed as it dropped back to his side.

"I've waited a long time for this," the villain murmured.

Robin smiled despite himself; Seth had said that too.

And Robin had lived.

"Well, I suppose I should enjoy it," Slade went on, his voice a vicious whisper. "And then, when you have breathed your last, I will finally turn the key in the Orb of Azarath, and that promised power shall be mine…"

Robin groaned, spewing a mouthful of blood down his front.

But despite his pitiful condition, he had a plan. It all depended on how long he could cling onto life, but it was better than nothing.

Exerting all of his strength, he slipped one hand up to his belt and grasped his communicator, feeling for the distress signal button on the side; once he pressed it, the other Titans' communicators would be sent an SOS message and his coordinates – and they would understand that he desperately needed help and would come to his aid immediately.

All of the communicators had them; it was a feature that Cyborg had added recently.

His thumb found it; but just as he was about to press it, it suddenly went off in his hand, bleeping its little warning jingle.

_Someone was calling him._

Slade cocked his head; and then reached out, pulled Robin's hand from behind his back and snatched the comm. out of his fingers. He let it play its little tune for a very long time as Robin watched, aghast.

His last hope had just been torn away from him.

He was going to die.

Slade eventually flipped the comm. open and held it in front of him, not saying a word.

Cyborg's voice came over the speaker;

"Robin?" A tentative pause. "You alright, man?"

Slade laughed softly and Robin heard Cyborg stifle a horrified gasp on the other end of the line.

"Robin can't talk to you right now, I'm afraid," Slade went on, his voice silky. "He's going through some things. Or rather… he's got some _things_ _going through_ _him_…"

"Slade!" Cyborg's voice snapped. "What have you-?"

He got no further; Slade crushed the comm. in his hand and let the pieces fall to the floor, still sparking.

All except for the circular "T" insignia on the front.

Slade looked up at Robin.

"Very sneaky," he admitted, sounding amused. He took Robin's hand and placed the "T" into his palm, closing his fingers over it again. "One of the reasons I have to admit that I will miss you…"

He gave a quick twist and snapped Robin's wrist.

Robin screamed all over again; he could have held it back by biting his lip and hissing through his teeth, as Slade had done when Robin dislocated his arm.

But Robin was not _that_ much like Slade.

He wasn't _inhuman_.

So he screamed.

And as he screamed, he decided there and then that he wasn't out yet.

Slade had cut off his last hope; Robin was going to die.

But first…

But first he was going to destroy Slade's dream of power. He wanted – if he was going to die by Slade's hand – the madman to think that it was _he_ who had stopped him from gaining that power.

He wanted Slade to forever curse himself that a teenager had beaten him; had stopped him from gaining apocalyptic power.

Robin _wouldn't_ be stopping him, of course – only _Seth_ could get the power from that orb, and Seth (the one and only Seth) was _dead_.

But Robin wanted Slade to _think_ that he had.

A final parting gift.

Something to remember him by.

Robin let his scream die. And then he let his head drop against his chest again; he went completely limp, hanging on the staff. He took a deep breath – and then held it.

He couldn't stop his heart beating – but his pulse was slowing anyway because of the blood loss.

He didn't think Slade would check anyway.

All that mattered was that Slade thought that he was dead.

Slade studied him for a moment or two; extremely cautious.

Robin didn't move; didn't even breathe.

Slade reached out and grasped his hair, lifting his head.

Robin didn't move.

Slade let his head drop again.

He was satisfied that Robin was dead; or _nearly_ there, anyway.

Which was true, actually.

Slade walked away, picking up the Orb of Azarath on his way past and moving to the middle of the room.

His back to Robin.

And the "dead" boy opened his eyes and lifted his head again.

He was weak. He was in agony. He was _dying_.

But not _dead_.

Being as silent as… "death" was so insensitive considering his present condition…

He braced himself, gripped the staff, pushed back against the computer and pulled it out.

This time he didn't scream.

He landed and hauled himself up using the computer; he held the staff in his one good hand, agony smothering him to the extent that he was almost _numb_ with it.

His eyes glittered.

Exhilaration sweeping through him, Slade held up the glimmering Orb of Azarath in its platinum cradle in one hand; and with the other, he positioned the Blood Diamond right at the prism-cut hole at the front of it.

He was, in essence, doing everything right.

Except that he wasn't Seth Elliott.

The jewel slid perfectly into the hole; and Slade gave a quick flick of his wrist, turning it—

--And expecting a torrent on unearthly power to burst from it and come thundering into his being, spreading to the tips of his fingers, setting his nerve endings alight with sensations never felt before by any mortal…

Expecting that he would clench his fist and lighting would crack; that he would turn his icy gaze on someone and they would turn to stone; that he would give a flick of his wrist and a chasm of fire would open within the very earth and swallow up all of his enemies…

Nothing happened.

And then the staff came through his shoulder.

He started and buckled; the orb fell from his hand as he went to his knees.

He saw something red and green flash past him, snatching up the orb – cradle, key and all – and then Robin's bloody corpse stood before him; a dark gaping hole through his belly, his wrist jutting at an odd angle against his glove, his shattered nose streaming blood.

He wasn't a corpse.

He was _alive_.

And before Slade could stop him, he raised his hand and threw the Orb of Azarath at the floor.

_Slade screamed_.

It was an explosion that Robin had seen before; hot, sparkling, fantastic. He was sent to the ground by the force of it, shielding his face.

And when the smoke cleared, all that was left was the Blood Diamond and the cradle.

Slade got to his feet, so angry he—

He grasped the staff and pulled it _through_ his shoulder.

He flipped it over in his hand.

He pulled his arm back.

And Robin waited to die.

There was a sudden shuddering explosion elsewhere; one that shook the very foundations of the mine. Chunks of rock and dust began to fall from the ceiling; the support beams began to crack.

Slade stopped dead and looked up.

Another explosion; this one nearer. And the whole floor was beginning to shake now; an earthquake…

And then the far wall suddenly cracked and gave way completely – the dust cleared to reveal two gold pinpoints, like the eyes of a cat.

Terra stepped into the room, her eyes and hands flaring.

She looked utterly _demented_.

"_Terra_!" Slade barked angrily. "What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?"

Terra let out a wild shriek of laughter.

"They're _following_ me!" She cried, half-laughing, half-hysterical. "I'm bringing it down; _I'm bringing it all down_!"

Slade caught her meaning immediately and gave a curt nod, dropping the staff.

He turned his cold grey gaze on Robin.

And he laughed.

"I expect I'll see you in hell some day, Robin…"

He walked away, leaving Robin on the ground bleeding to death.

Terra followed him, the ground shaking and cracking where she stepped.

"_Terra_!" He cried weakly. "Please, you can't… you're our _friend_!"

Terra too turned to look down at him; a Terra so different to the thirty-one year old version who had been… _good_.

Who had fought at his side; sought to help and protect him.

But _this_ Terra…

She didn't smile.

She didn't laugh.

She didn't glare at him.

Her face was utterly impassive as she walked away after her master; as she turned her back on him and left him to die.

The ground beneath was tremoring and the ceiling cracking, hailing down stone, and—

Robin closed his eyes.

Well, _really_; he'd surely used up his nine lives by _now_.

Part of the ceiling gave way, smashing the balcony, bringing the whole room inwards and downwards—

He couldn't get up; he couldn't run.

He simply _couldn't_.

He was almost dead anyway; once more, blood was pooling in his throat, suffocating him, there was a hole right through his stomach…

He heard a rending of stone against stone right above him and waited to be crushed, not even opening his eyes; with what little energy he had left, he braced himself—

The impact didn't come.

He forced his eyes open; and there, floating above him, was Starfire, holding up the slab of rock that had been hurtling downwards to crush him.

Like Superman.

And then Beast Boy was there too, in the form of a Sasquatch, pushing upwards to help her out. Together, the two Titans threw the slab of rock aside.

Robin's eyes slid closed…

"Star, we gotta get out of here!" Beast Boy yelled over the distant crashing and smashing going on from the rest of the mine around them, turning back to his original form.

Starfire nodded, kneeling next to Robin.

"_X'hal_…" She stared at him, horrified. "Beast Boy, he is—"

"Star, just grab him and get out!" Beast Boy interrupted frantically. "Terra's bringing the whole mine down!"

Starfire hoisted Robin up in her strong arms and flew to the doorway, Beast Boy close at her heels in the small but fast form of a green sparrow.

They came out into the corridor to find that it had entirely caved in.

"We are trapped!" Starfire cried, horrified.

Beast Boy desperately flitted around, looking for an opening.

Reforming to his human state, he turned to her, his eyes wide and scared.

"There's no way out!" He said frantically. "If you start shooting starbolts at it it'll just bring more down!"

"Then what do we _do_?" Starfire wailed, terrified.

"I don't-"

A black shadow suddenly formed on the floor, taking on bird-like shape; and then Cyborg and Raven arose from it, right in front of them.

"Nice work, Ray," Cyborg said distractedly, turning to Starfire and Beast Boy. "Did you…? Oh, god…"

He stared at Robin in horror.

"Is he…?"

"He is alive," Raven said, suddenly… _herself_ again.

Somehow.

"Barely," she went on, "but I can heal him. He can be saved."

"_We have to get out of here_!" Beast Boy said hysterically.

Without another word, Raven enclosed her Soul Self around the five of them and transported them outside, where the T-car was waiting.

The diamond mine still shook and rumbled, completely collapsing from the inside out.

It had been closed for months; there were no workers in there anymore.

Simply "Do Not Enter: Dangerous" signs pasted up everywhere.

"_I'll_ say that place is dangerous," Beast Boy muttered, leaping into the car.

"Raven, you can heal him?" Starfire asked pleadingly, holding Robin out to her.

Raven looked up at her, her eyes wide.

"Yes," she said, suddenly… _not_ herself again. "But it may take days. He is so injured…"

Cyborg looked at the collapsing mine.

"Let's get the hell outta here," he said decisively. He frowned at Starfire; and then took Robin out of her arms. "And don't hold him like that, Star." The half-robot held Robin upright and gave him a smack on the back.

He choked up a mouthful of blood.

"He's broken his nose," Cyborg explained wearily. "If you lie him on his back he'll drown in his own blood."

"Raven, you must fix him!" Starfire said firmly, turning to the empath.

Raven beamed.

"Yes, I heal people!"

"Well, come do that healing over here…"

Cyborg dragged her to the car, Robin under his other arm like a doll; Starfire followed them worriedly.

"I can't do it all now!" Raven protested, wide-eyed. "I can only do a little bit at a time, he is so hurt…"

"Whatever, let's just get this show on the road…"

Behind them, there was an almighty shuddering, rending, _screaming_ implosive sound.

The mine collapsed.

The ground tremored.

Dust rose into the air like a mushroom cloud.

Starfire turned back and floated a little way off the ground, simply staring at it.

Simply not knowing why Terra had done these things.

Simply not _understanding_.

And within the mine, the Blood Diamond – one of its kind; the key to the Orb of Azarath – was lost beneath a torrent of rock and twisted metal and rusting machinery and broken support beams and dust and grit and other similarly-lost diamonds.

It was buried forever—

And no-one ever spoke of it again.

* * *

Cyborg heaved a sigh of relief as he leaned against the door of the sick bay in Titans Tower.

Robin was going to be fine.

They were _all_ fine.

All _alive_.

They had _won_.

Raven had healed his nose on the way home in the car, eliminating the threat of him choking on his own blood and made a start on the wound in his stomach.

She had been right; because of the seriousness of his wounding, she was unable to do it all in one go, and had to rest and regain her energy for about ten minutes between bouts of healing.

But she had _done_ it; more or less.

His nose was fine. The hole through his stomach was non-existent. The bruising to his skull was gone. His broken wrist was completely healed.

Now Robin was asleep, resting in one of the beds in the sick bay; stripped to the waist and with his boots removed. He still looked rather worse for wear, but he was alive, and he was going to be just fine.

That was all that mattered.

Raven was curled up asleep in the next bed, still fully clothed; she was tired from all that healing.

On her side and with her cloak draped over her body, it was impossible for anyone to see her bump.

Cyborg flopped onto one of the beds himself, exhausted; and then raised his arm and flipped on his built-in phone system.

_Jump City Pizza_ was on speed-dial.

He grinned

—

"Beast Boy, perhaps you would like to partake of my Pudding of Triumph?" Starfire asked tentatively, holding out the bowl and spoon to her green-skinned friend.

The alien girl and the shape-shifter were in the kitchen by themselves, Starfire hard at work mixing up another of her horrific Tamaranean dishes; Beast Boy sitting gloomily at the counter, his ears flat.

"No thanks, Star," he mumbled sadly, pushing the bowl away. "There's nothing to "triumph" over…"

"We were victorious, yes?" Starfire said, her voice questioning. "_We_ protected our home, Cyborg and Raven caught the Amazing Mumbo, and Robin defeated Slade, although I admit that he did not fare too well… But he is fine; is that not something to be joyous about?"

Beast Boy looked at her sadly and shrugged dejectedly.

"Well, yeah, I guess… I mean, I'm glad that everything has turned out okay, and I'm _really_ glad that Robin is going to be fine, but…"

Starfire put the bowl aside as Beast Boy dipped his head; and she put her hand on his shoulder as a few tears spattered the kitchen floor.

"Beast Boy," she said softly, "I wonder myself why Terra has done these things. Why she betrayed us, and why she hates us so when we did nothing to offend or antagonize her. It confuses and upsets me deeply… She was our very good friend and we all liked her, and…"

Beast Boy looked up at the alien princess, his large green eyes filled with unfallen tears.

"_I loved her, Star_," he whispered. "_I… loved her and she walked away_…"

Starfire could give no answer.

Eventually Beast Boy lowered his head again and slid off his seat, walking over to the window. He gazed out at the city; it was evening, and beginning to get dark.

The city glittered and he remembered that time he and Terra had stood at the edge of a high cliff overlooking it, admiring its beauty from afar.

What had she said?

"_Looks cool, doesn't it?… Guess sometimes you have to leave a place to really appreciate it…"_

Beast Boy bit his lip, feeling tears in his eyes.

In the reflection in the window, he saw Starfire approach behind him.

Her green eyes were sad.

"Beast Boy…" She heaved a deep sigh. "…I do not believe that she is evil; I truly do not. She is confused, and even a little afraid. But she is not _evil_."

"_He took her away_," Beast Boy growled, clenching his fists.

"I know, and I do not know that we may ever be able to win her back…"

"Do you… think she'll _kill_ us?"

Starfire dipped her head sadly.

"I could not possibly say," she replied softly. "Certainly she is no longer an ally, and perhaps today she… might have killed us if we had _allowed_ her to…"

"He corrupted her, he made her _hate_ us…"

"I know," Starfire said again. "Your world is confusing to me, Beast Boy. There are so many wondrous things; so many things of beauty and happiness, so many good things. But there are also so many _bad_ things; things that we do not have on my planet. I do not understand why there is such evil in this world, Beast Boy; why cannot everyone simply _love_? Why are there those who seek to cause misery and pain to others? My people do not do such things… Sometimes it seems that although I escaped the tyranny of the Gordanians, I did not truly escape from evil…"

Beast Boy finally turned to her.

"I don't know either, Star," he said quietly.

She placed her hand on his shoulder again and they stood there, side by side, gazing out of the window in silence.

Was it truly such a hollow victory?

For it was true; they had won the battle.

But they had not won the war.

* * *

Whooo, that was epic.

Yes, yes, LAME cop-out with Raven being all magic-healy-blah, but it's not like they didn't do that in the show…

That is much closure: No more Orb of Azarath, no more Blood Diamond, and I _think_… no more Terra and Slade, actually. O.o Because the end of _Remember the Titans_ eventually lines up and merges in with the end of Season 2, so while Terra and Slade are actually still important, the show kind of does the work for me from here, so they didn't need to come back in.

I might be wrong, though; god, I wrote this so damn long ago…

Yay! I updated!

RobinRocks

xXx


	35. Happy Birthday, Buffy

Wow, seriously, anyone would think I was doing this on purpose…

I decided to update for my birthday, and, well… look at that for a title… O.o It's a coincidence, I assure you – this chapter has **always** been called _Happy Birthday, Buffy_ (a _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ reference), but I forgot that this was next - I'd probably have updated sooner, actually, to avoid this, because it's lame considering that the OTHER fic I updated today (_Poison Apple_, random Disney/_Death Note_ stuffz) also – coincidentally – has stuff to do with birthdays…

Ugh, I'm such a lame. A nineteen year old one, as of today, 3rd December. :D

We're into the last "arc" of _Remember the Titans_ now – and someone special makes a cameo in here too! Yay for him…

My god, this fic has been going _waaaaaaay_ too long… O.o I'd finished writing it by this time last year, it's just me being lazy with updates, I confess…

Thankyou to: **The Tygre, Amara-chan, LoopyLouise123, uinn and His Quill, Someone, Still Sketchin', Narroch, Guardian of Azarath, Dragon Princess 1988, TheFallenAngel67, Simmie, Chanceless** and** Me**!

Happy Birthday, Buffy

The next few days passed quietly.

Or so was the illusion.

On the outside, it seemed quiet; and in terms of criminal activity, it _was_.

Mad Mod showed up Downtown in a Union Jack-painted van with fold-out hypno-screen panels; the H.I.V.E trio of Gizmo, Jinx and Mammoth crashed the mall; and Killer Croc thought it would be a good idea to hide from Batman in the city protected by his sidekick to avoid being taken back to Arkham Asylum.

The Teen Titans thrashed him and strung him up from a lamppost for Batman to collect; and Robin left a little note attached to the hulking clocked-out villain, stating "Too slow!" along with a little bat and a smiley face.

To Robin's disappointment, it was not Batman who showed up on collection duty; it was Superman, who read the note, grinned and pocketed it before flying off with Killer Croc over one shoulder. Robin was assured of two things; that the entire Justice League was now involved in the catching of all the Arkham Asylum escapees; and that Batman would definitely get the note one way or another.

Where Batman was absolutely _lacking_ a sense of humour, Superman was right there to fill in for it.

The note had amused Big Blue, anyway.

But other than that, there was nothing.

Slade had gone back to lying low for a while; a frequent practice, and did not send Terra out to wreak havoc.

For all they knew, the pair of them could have disappeared off the face of the earth.

And so, their days were spent lazily; Beast Boy (between moping over Terra) and Cyborg played many a videogame, and Starfire cooked up many a disgusting recipe that everyone pretended to be enjoying and then spat onto the floor or into the nearest plant when she turned her back.

Robin was, as usual, hard at work; but this time he had not turned his attention to his crime files; to scrutinizing the movements and motives of various villains, trying to figure out where they would strike next.

He was studying _magic_.

Frustrated as he was by Raven's sudden memory-lapse and personality-lobotomisation, he was using it to the best of his advantage.

She was – and almost annoyingly so – very clingy to him; she followed him everywhere and wouldn't be without him. She wasn't all over him exactly; but she wasn't satisfied unless he was at least in the same room as her. This wasn't entirely a bad thing, because although he didn't get much peace from her, she _was_ enthusiastic about lending him her books and equipment.

He hadn't, of course, told her he was looking for a protection spell so that she wouldn't die when he stabbed her through the womb and murdered her unborn child; in her present state-of-mind (acting plain weird and thinking it was his and that everything was going to be fine and fun and dandy…) he didn't think it was a very good idea, and it wasn't even worth him trying to explain everything that had happened in the future, because she simply couldn't remember.

He had his suspicions that her current state had something to do with her (weird) pregnancy; and he was hoping against hope that when he slaughtered the child, she would be restored to normal.

So, for the meantime, he had spun her some story about gaining an interest in magic and had asked very sweetly if it might be alright to borrow some of her books and magical items to practice with.

This had worked _remarkably_ well and reaped him a couple of fringe benefits to boot; she had written out a chart of Azarathian-English symbols and given him a Latin/English phrasebook so that he could decipher parts of her texts, cracked open her personal locked case of "forbidden" books that she would not have let him _near_ had she been herself and let him go through them, and given him permission to go into her room at any time without asking, as long as he knocked first.

Although he admitted that this would have been a _lot_ easier if Raven had simply been "normal", he was glad of her immense cooperation. There _was_ a little catch, but it wasn't an awful one, so he had agreed to it to keep her happy.

She had declared that she was lonely in bed at night and had requested that he come in and share her bed with her to keep her company. He had then gotten a very long prissy out-of-character lecture about him not getting any ideas and having to wear pyjamas and he began to wonder why she had even requested it in the first place if she was so paranoid he was going try and have his way with her.

Nevertheless, he had agreed to it; and it wasn't altogether a bad thing either; for one thing, he got to keep a close eye on her, which was a relief to him because to be honest her condition concerned him immensely. She was huge, but did not seem as though she was ready to give birth yet (which was another vast relief), and although she had stopped being sick and was looking much healthier and even _prettier_, he didn't like it.

He didn't like it at all.

He wasn't too fussed about being so close to that _demon parasite_ inside her, but there wasn't anything he could do about that…

Because if there _was_ then he wouldn't need to be going through her books looking for a spell.

He knew that the rest of the team suspected something; Raven's confusing behaviour and her near–_obsession_ with _him_ was enough to make anyone think that…

Well, _what_, exactly?

Robin didn't entirely know what was going on himself; there were still so many questions that just hadn't been answered, and he wasn't sure if he was ever going to _get_ them.

Seth Elliott was dead.

The Azarathian Senate was out of his reach with Raven the way she was.

Slade had disappeared.

Terra had truly turned on them.

Raven was acting weird.

Batman was unreachable because he wasn't in Gotham at the moment; instead, he and the Justice League were all over the place, rounding up Arkham escapees.

The other Titans were clueless.

Terra (the _older_ Terra) and Roy were in another time, and now that he had taken the Clock of Eternity back to the museum…

Well, it seemed that whatever way he turned, whichever door he chose, it was locked, shut off from him.

Which was why, once again, he was left to work it out on his own.

* * *

"I was thinking about names."

Robin paused, feeling as though someone had tied a knot in his stomach.

"Yeah?" He asked, trying to sound enthusiastic.

It was one in the morning, and he and Raven were in her candle-lit room getting ready for bed.

The scene was almost domestic; the young husband and wife expecting their first child, getting into bed while excitedly debating names.

In a way, Robin knew that that was how Raven saw it; because she was so screwed up and didn't know any better.

It was as though… she was seeing the world through rose-tinted lenses; a perspective she had never had before.

But there was nothing rosy about this situation; Raven was pregnant, yes – but it was a _monster_. A demon child, the baby of Seth Elliott and Raven Roth, one a hugely powerful evil half-demon, the other the daughter of the demon Trigon, blessed with a human mother and cursed with a terrible destiny that was her birthright.

The baby was evil; Robin was a mortal, a human, and yet he could _tell_. _Raven_ had been born of horrific rape by a monster; but she had turned out good all the same.

Robin knew that Trigon's _grandchild_ wasn't going to be quite the same; most likely because it was Seth's. He wondered how the child would have turned out if it _had_ been _his_ baby.

Probably okay.

But Seth Elliott had been bad news; and his child seemed to be taking that after its father.

Robin gave a little shiver.

It _had_ to go. Period.

Pulling on his black and acid green long-sleeved pyjamas, Robin looked over his shoulder at Raven; who had stopped talking.

Another little shiver crept down his spine as he saw her across the other side of her gothic-designed bedroom (he wasn't actually sure how he was able to sleep in here…); she was standing in front of a full-length mirror – Azarathian runes craved into the heavy metal frame – dressed only in her black bra and underwear, rubbing her hand lovingly over the smooth surface of her swollen belly.

She was smiling at her reflection.

He looked away again quickly, for two reasons; one, he didn't want her to accuse him of being a pervert because he was staring at her in her underwear; and two, he just didn't want to look at her being so…

…_motherly_…

"It's growing so quickly," she said softly.

"Uh-huh."

_Don't I __**know**__ it_, Robin griped irritably.

"I'm glad," Raven went on, "because I can't wait…"

"Oh…" He cleared his throat. "Uh, no, me neither… it's gonna be great…"

She turned to him.

"Robin, you really _do_ want to have this baby with me, don't you?"

He looked up at the ceiling.

"Sure I do," he lied.

"Then why won't you _look_ at me?" Raven snapped. And then her eyes widened as though realisation was suddenly dawning on her; "Oh, you're disgusted by me, aren't you? You think I'm fat and ugly!"

He was almost amused; because such things would never have crossed Raven's mind before…

…all _this_…

"No I don't," he replied calmly. "The reason I'm not looking at you is because you're hardly wearing anything…"

Raven came over to him and grasped his head, making him look at her.

"What?" He asked, meeting her gaze.

She didn't answer, holding him there for a moment or two; and then she finally let him go.

"Just checking…" She wandered away again; and he rolled his eyes as she moved away from him.

_Mood swings._

He went to her large bed and got in as she pulled out the oversized T-shirt she had taken to wearing for bed out from under her pillow; Robin had given it to her for that very purpose, and she simply wore that over her underwear and bra. It was black, with a blue electric guitar and the slogan "I Want My MTV" on the front and _Dire Straits: Money for Nothing_ in faded azure writing across the back.

It had been Bruce's.

Raven slipped in next to him, extinguishing all but one candle with her powers; and snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest. As was his usual jaded practice, he waited a few moments, then put his arms around her back so that she didn't complain that he was trying to edge away from her.

Another downside to her "new" personality; she was suddenly extremely paranoid and even _covetous_. It was as though she had suddenly decided that he was her property and hers alone, and made a conscious effort to keep the other Titans away from him (not just Starfire, but Beast Boy and Cyborg too).

It was very tiring dealing with her; but he had also read up on pregnancy from a book in the cabinet in the sick bay, and had been surprised to note that this kind of behaviour was actually quite normal in pregnant women.

He wasn't too thrilled about that; it meant that if he ever decided to get married and have children, he was going to have to go through all this _again_, even though the baby would be _normal_…

He realised grimly that Raven had been right; if everybody thought like he did, the human race would be long dead…

"I bought a book," Raven murmured sleepily, drawing a pattern with her finger on his stomach. "You know, of baby names…"

"Yeah?" He looked up at the dark ceiling.

"Yeah…" She repeated her little swirling pattern on the material of his pyjamas. "And I was reading it and picking some names… There are some nice unusual ones. Did you have any in mind, or would you like to hear my list?"

"Uh, I'll hear your list…"

He shivered; now they were choosing _names_ for it? For that stinking evil little—?

"Okay, well, for a girl… Cassandra?"

"Cassandra?"

"She was the love of Apollo in Greek mythology; he gave her the gift of prophecy."

"Uh-huh." He tried to make himself sound interested. "What else?"

"Well, I like Cordelia, which means 'good-hearted'; and Morven, which means 'wave of the sea' in Gaelic; and Odette, which means "heritage"; and "Maeve", which is Gaelic for "goddess" – it can also be spelt "Meadhbh"; oh, and I like Desiderata, and Aurelia, and Philomena, and Senoia, and-"

"Raven, was there a "Weird Names" section at the back of that book?" Robin snapped. "If you _must_ pick a name, can't you pick a _normal_ one? Stupid baby names are for clueless movie stars…"

"But our baby is going to be special. I want to give it a special name."

_Define "special"…_

"Names beginning with "v" are nice," Raven said thoughtfully. "Do you like Violet? Or Victoria? "

"Uh, well…" He sighed; this was a game he didn't want to play at all. "We'll come back to it. What about – dare I ask – boy's names?"

Raven was pleased.

"Oh, I have _lots_…"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"I like Aaron. It's Hebrew for "mountain"."

"Okay, that's a nice _normal_ name…"

"Do you like Bartholomew?"

"No."

"Raphael?"

"No."

"Constantine?"

"_No_."

"How about Malachi? Or Xanthion? Or Virgil? Or Honor? Or-?"

"Raven, _where_ are you getting these names from?"

"The book." Raven sniffled miserably in the dark. "Don't you like _any_ of them?"

"No, they're _stupid_…"

"Well, how about Casper? Do you like Casper? Or Kirby?"

"Those are the kind of names people get beaten up for…"

"We could name it Bruce if you wanted."

Robin gave a little shiver.

"I _don't_ want to call it Bruce."

"What _do_ you want to call it, then? It needs to have a name…"

"Why can't you just pick one when…"

He trailed off uncomfortably, not knowing how to finish; it wasn't a normal baby, and once he was finished with it, it wasn't going to be _anything_. Truthfully, he didn't want her to pick names for it because that would be getting too attached. In her normal state, Raven would know this and would have more sense, but like _this_…

"Raven, I think you should just leave it for now," he said finally.

She was hurt that he didn't like any of her name choices and gave him a vengeful jab in the stomach.

"Ouch!"

"You're mean," she muttered balefully.

"Uh-huh…" He rubbed at his stomach in the dark, glad that she couldn't see how much it had hurt him.

She didn't say anything else and he was glad of the peace; his eyes slid closed and he was just comfortably drifting off to sleep…

"I'm scared."

His opened his eyes irritably.

"What?" He gave a sleepy little moan. "I thought you were asleep…"

"I can't." She writhed further against him. "I'm scared."

"Me too," he sniped grouchily. "Maybe you should redecorate…"

"Not my room!" He received another prod in the stomach. "You're _stupid_!"

"I'm also tired, so could you please just go to sleep? There's no need to be scared of… _whatever_ you're scared of…"

He closed his eyes again, turning his head away from her on the pillow.

She whimpered and clutched at him and he opened them _again_. Raven had never annoyed him before, but these past few days she had been trying his patience immensely. She was, like… Starfire-clingy _tenfold_.

"_What_?" He snapped.

"I'm scared about… giving birth…"

"Oh."

Well, how was he supposed to answer _that_? If he had any say in the matter, she wasn't _going_ to be giving birth, because he was going to have destroyed the child before she even went into labour.

But he couldn't tell her _that_.

Not _yet_.

Not until he was ready.

And, well… what did _he_ know about pregnancy and childbirth anyway? He, thankfully, would never have to go through it…

He patted her head.

"It'll be okay…"

"It'll hurt."

"Well…" He was floored. "…_Yeah_. But they can… drug you up and everything…"

"Do you think I should have a Caesarean?"

"I _think_ you should stop worrying and get some sleep…"

_And let __**me**__ handle it… one way or another…_

—

_The corridor was dark; and somehow familiar to him. Stone walls, stone floor, flaming torches in brackets._

_Writing on those walls, glowing blue – symbols that he couldn't read, but yet he knew them to be Azarathian._

_He was in Azarath, then?_

_He was walking; as though in slow-motion. He couldn't seem to go any faster than this – how he tread now. Couldn't run, although he wasn't particularly trying. And he knew where he was going without being conscious of it; knew where this direction would take him._

_Inevitably, he came to his destination, and though the journey there had seemed, at the time, epically slow, now it seemed that he was here too soon._

_He didn't want to be here. _

_And yet he was drawn forward; compelled; controlled, like a puppet. _

_Another stone chamber lit by torches. In the centre of the small room was a square stone block; and lain upon it were blankets and sheets._

_And on those blankets, held down by figures in hooded robes, was Raven._

_Screaming; crying; she writhed and thrashed in their grip, tears streaming down her face and blood spattered up the insides of her legs._

_He understood._

_It was not her fellow Azarathians who were hurting her._

_Raven was in labour._

_And she was dying._

_He tried to push through to her, but there were too many of them, all swarming around her; mopping her brow, adjusting the white sheet thrown over her naked body, holding her down, soothing her in Azarathian. He couldn't get near her at all._

_No-one even seemed to realize that he was __**there**__, despite the fact that he stood out; the dark-haired teenaged boy in red, yellow and green among the sea of serious robed adults. And it was only then, as he stood in silent despair, that he felt the hand on his shoulder._

_Turning, he found that Jonathon Vaughan was behind him; the dead senator, in this dreamworld, restored to a "living" state._

_His __**heart**__ was back where it should have been, anyway…_

"_Jonathon?"_

_Jonathon offered him a vague little smile; which faded as the auburn-haired senator looked up and across the chamber at poor Raven._

"_You have to stop this," he said softly._

"_I can't stop it," Robin replied dejectedly. "I can't stop her from giving birth… and I can't get __**near**__ her, anyway…"_

_Raven's scream tore the air and Jonathon turned his gaze back on Robin._

"_She will die if you don't."_

"_What do you want me to __**do**__?!" Robin snapped, exasperated. "This is all you people do; you and Marcus and the rest of the Senate! You tell me I have to do something, but you don't tell me __**how**__, and then you expect me to __**succeed**__? How can I save her if you won't even tell me how?!"_

_Jonathon was grimly amused._

"_Wouldn't that be making it rather too easy?"_

_Robin turned away from him in disgust._

"_You're as bad as the Riddler…"_

"_Your mentor taught you well. I shouldn't think that a few cryptic signs would throw you off so easily…"_

"_Well, excuse __**me**__ for not being all gung-ho about it!" Robin spat. "Magic and prophecy isn't exactly my area of expertise, and it's not Batman's either. This is the kind of thing __**Raven**__ deals with…"_

"_Well, Raven is a little indisposed at the moment…"_

"_I can see that…" Robin was aware that this was a dream; and that everything they spoke of had a double meaning. They weren't just talking about the happenings of the present within the dream (Raven screaming bloody murder in agony), but about the real world._

_About the fact that Raven truly wasn't "available" at the moment to take over what should have been her area of expertise. Was Raven normal, she would have found the spell by now and the thing inside her would probably have been dealt with days ago._

_But Robin was having to work it out alone, and since he couldn't read Latin and Azarathian and was having to rely heavily on the chart she had given him, and specified that he did not know his way around her books (she would know what she was looking for and where to look), it was an extremely slow process._

"_She will die if you do not prevent this," Jonathon said again, his voice soft. "She could never survive this birth. I believe that Seth was perhaps the only one who could have enabled her to live through it; he had the knowledge and the power to keep her alive. But otherwise…"_

_Robin clenched his fists._

"_I won't let her die."_

"_Then you must hurry and find the spell to protect her from the Blade of Azar."_

"_The Blade of Azar?"_

"_The demon-slaying knife. That's its correct name. There were seven of them."_

"_Marcus told me that."_

"_Then he will also have told you that it is dire that you destroy that child, not just because of Raven's welfare. Its very essence is of pure and utmost malevolence – more corrupt than even Seth himself. Its heritage is a most tainted one; the grandchild of Trigon the Terrible bred with a human woman – Angela Roth – used as an offering, and on the other side, a siren-demon and a powerful Azarathian. The results of both of those procreations were Seth Elliott and Raven Roth; and now she carries __**their**__ child within her. Can you imagine it being anything __**other**__ than an incarnation of--?"_

"_Yeah, I'm thinking more "Evilfest" than "Baby Shower"…"_

"_Robin, if you thought __**Seth**__ was bad news-"_

"_I get it, I get it…" Robin sighed. "It's alright, I'm on it…"_

"_Perhaps not quickly enough…" _

"_What do you—?"_

_Another horrifying scream of throat-rending agony interrupted him and then the entire room was plunged into darkness, all of the candles being extinguished at once, and for no reason._

_Or __**was**__ there a reason?_

_He got his answer as he heard the tiny weak cry of a newborn baby._

_Someone muttered a few words and relit all of the torches; and in the orange flickering light Robin saw two Azarathian monks wrapping the newborn in blankets with utmost care._

_So Seth hadn't been kidding when he said that the Azarathians were too compassionate for their own good._

_They had let Seth live._

_They had let Raven live._

_Now they were letting their __**child**__ live._

"_What are they doing?" Robin asked in despair; but when he received no answer, he looked over his shoulder to find that Jonathon Vaughan was gone._

_Sudden fury and determination overtaking him, Robin pushed his way through the crowd of silent monks and priestesses and acolytes to where Raven lay._

_She was sprawled on her back, the sheet barely covering her, pale and bloody and still._

"_Raven?" He asked tentatively, taking her hand._

_She didn't answer; didn't move._

_Just lay there._

_Dead._

"_Raven!" He shook her, even though he knew…_

_He bit his lip; clenched his fists; and blinked away the tears pricking at his eyes._

_And—_

"_There!"_

"_There he is!"_

_Robin was grasped suddenly by the shoulders and pulled backwards; and to his immense shock found himself surrounded by the monks._

"_She is dead," one said quietly._

"_I know," Robin growled._

"_Then we must give the child to you…"_

_Robin blinked._

"_What? Why?"_

_One of the monks drew down his hood as another gently placed the newborn into Robin's arms._

"_Because it is your baby, is it not? You are the father? Raven insisted that __**you**__ were the father…"_

"_No…" Robin shook his head, horrified. "No, it isn't mine… no, I don't… I don't __**want**__ it!"_

_They had already all turned away from him; and once more he seemed to become invisible and mute._

"_IT'S NOT MINE!" Robin screamed at them._

_And was ignored._

_They were clustered around Raven now; two wrapped her in the sheet and four of them gently carried her out of the chamber._

"_No!" Robin cried, trying to go after them; but it seemed though there was some invisible force blocking him, because he couldn't get near them. "No! Bring her back! __**Come back**__!"_

_Nothing. He was left alone in the dimly-lit chamber, the demon child in his arms._

_He looked down at it in terror and disgust. Wrapped in red blankets, it was asleep; wet and bloody, barely minutes old._

_It didn't look all that threatening to him, to be honest. It didn't __**look**__ evil…_

_And then it opened its eyes._

_He couldn't scream; and he couldn't drop it._

_But his blood ran cold and his heart thunked in his chest._

_Four crimson slits, as though covered in a thin film of blood; inherited from its mother._

_He didn't want to know what it had inherited from its father…_

"_Would you like me to take it?"_

_A voice from behind him. Relieved, he handed it back without looking, glad to have it out of his arms._

_And then…_

_He whipped around._

_Seth Elliott smirked at him, cradling his newborn child in his arms._

"_Thankyou, Richard," he purred. "It would have been so easy for you to dash its brains on the floor, but you held it and kept it nice and safe for me…" He smiled and looked down at the baby. "You don't know how long I've waited for this…"_

_Robin couldn't speak._

_Seth?_

_But he was…_

_Seth turned and walked away, carefully cradling his child._

_Seth was __**dead**_

_But then… so was Jonathon._

_And speaking of…_

"_You can't let this happen."_

_Robin turned to find Jonathon behind him again._

"_You didn't let me finish before," the dead senator went on. "The child is bad news alone, but the birth of it… Seth always has a back-up plan; the chances of him dying were very slim indeed, but he always knew that Raven had the power to destroy him if only he made her angry enough. So he placed charms upon the child; one being that it couldn't be destroyed by anyone other than a flesh-and-blood creator – which is a title that __**you**__, through a loophole, qualify as – and the other being that on the event of the birth of the child, Raven's life would be taken and—"_

"…_**He**__ would be resurrected," Robin finished, his voice a hoarse, horrified whisper. "Marcus didn't…"_

"_Marcus doesn't know."_

"_Then how do you?"_

_Jonathon looked mildly insulted._

"_Why do you think he __**murdered**__ me? I knew everything. The "real" prophecy, your role, Raven's child… and that Seth never intended to die – and if he did, he didn't intend to __**stay**__ dead. If he lived, he would have married Raven and made her his queen. If he died – which he __**did**__ – he intended to take her life to restore his own with the birth of the child… He would be resurrected from her Soul Self and brought to wherever she gave birth, and of course the child would be his for the taking." Jonathon shrugged. "Which, I suppose, isn't illegal or anything… It __**is**__ his baby…"_

_Robin frowned. There was too much information here, too many things that…_

"_This isn't a dream, is it?"_

"_It is, but not your regular kind," Jonathon corrected. "You aren't dreaming up any of these things; I am contacting you from the World Beyond, trying to help… But I am having to use your dreams as a bridge. It's probably safer to call this a vision, of sorts…"_

"_This really will happen?"_

"_Unless you stop it."_

"_How?!" Robin was desperate. "Jonathon, __**help**__ me! Help me save her!"_

_Jonathon looked at him sadly._

"_There are laws I cannot break. I cannot tell you everything I know."_

"_Then __**something**__!" Robin begged. "A clue, anything! Please, help me. I can't do this by myself. I don't know anything about magic… The most I can do at the moment is levitate feathers!"_

"_I may tell you this, and this only…" Jonathon put his hands on Robin's shoulders. "The moon is your hourglass, and it is nearly running out."_

"_What?" Robin was utterly perplexed._

_Jonathon smiled._

"_It will make sense, Robin. You are a clever boy; a true detective."_

_His voice dropped to a whisper._

"_And here's something for free… try the purple book…"_

_Robin blinked at him; and as he did so, Jonathon slowly – somehow – drew the silver Blade of Azar out of thin air. Grasping the hilt, he turned it over in his grip._

"_You know what to do."_

_Robin looked up as the knife was pressed into his right hand; Jonathon grinned._

"_Happy Birthday, Buffy…"_

* * *

And therein the title becomes relevant.

How tenuous – but I like the line. It's perhaps the alliteration…

Next chapter: Robin and Cyborg hang out in the kitchen at 2:00am! Don't miss it!!!111111!!!111!

Oh, and there's some séance crap and stuff in there too… _//Shrug//_

On a brighter note, I think I might call my kids Meadhbh and Kirby…

- RobinRocks xXx


	36. His Name in Candle Wax

Well, firstly, I'd like to say that, in dedicating this chapter to **YamiTai**, being that today, 10th December, is her birthday, it proves just how long this storyline has been going – since this the THIRD chapter I have dedicated to the occasion.

Honestly, if there's a fourth birthday dedication to you, my friend, as much as I like doing it… I think it means that this fic is _really_ taking the cake update-wise. O.o

It is with great pleasure, however, that I announce that in this – the chapter dedicated to your birthday – Jonathon Vaughan makes yet another cameo! Hurrah for him!

Thankyou to: **YamiTai **(you were the first reviewer last chapter too! Thankyou for the birthday wishes, and I return them with glee!); **Chanceless **(Seth removed Robin's electrical powers from him during the big fight scene quite a while back – it's understandable that you would have forgotten, to be honest… And there's not long 'til Static's cameo, though honestly… it IS tiny, dude. Don't get too excited); **LoopyLousise123 **(Honestly? My Robin reminds me of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is probably because I used to filch from _Buffy_ novels to write fight scenes, and I guess a little of Buffy herself seeped into the way I write our Boy Wonder… And ironically, the "new" Raven is still based on Dear Old Buffy-bot!); **Quinn and His Quill **(I agree – Malachi is an excellent name. I should have named a character Malachi to match up with Marcus and Seth – also EXCELLENT names, wouldn't you agree, Quinny Boy:D); **Guardian of Azarath **(here's your update, dude!); **The FallenAngel67 **(thankyou for the Mexican birthday song! I still think it's awesome how you can speak two languages so well! Glad you liked Robin's crazy dream!); **dragonprincess1988 **(Jonathon is back this chapter for more kicks and giggles!); **Someone **(oh, Raven's not gonna die! That would be totally dumb, to kill her off, non? Not that it stopped me killing the rest of them…); **Amara-Chan **(you skim over italics sections? They're like my favourite thing! I am somewhat obsessed with dream sequences in fics, so… yeah… The moon thing will be explained this chapter!); **Me **(again, I am totally surprised people liked Jonathon, given that he was an OC. Then again, I guess if I'd taken the "The Teen Titans meet a new hero with unspeakable and dangerous power claiming to be from Azarath, but how is he connected to Raven and is he friend or foe?" approach, you'd all have been chasing him with pitchforks…); and **Simmie **(oh, Seth – he was a slippery customer, non? Sometimes I am struck with the urge to write a musical about him…).

Also, to **Narroch**, the non-reviewing skeeze: I just mentioned how my Robin became manipulated into Buffy-Robin. Let's just remember the _Buffy_ influence on L coming up in _Poison Apple_. Review next time or I'll turn L into _Buffy_-L, and I mean _cheerleader_-Buffy-L.

It won't be pretty (though it might scare Light: "Ohmigahd, Light-kun, I am like _so_ majorly back from the dead. That whole heart attack thing is _so_ passé…").

**And now:** _The 2am Adventures Fridge-Filching of Robin and Cyborg™_, aka…

His Name in Candle Wax

Robin's eyes snapped open as he awoke from his horrific dream with a sudden gasp; he lay there on his side, his eyes wide and staring, for what felt like hours. It was pitch dark in Raven's room – the single candle had burned out long ago; she was pressed against his back, one arm draped over him, her hand on his stomach.

And _her_ stomach was pushed into the arch of his back.

He shivered; the baby – if could even be _called_ that – was still at the moment, not restlessly kicking, which relieved him.

Still…

He lifted her arm and slithered out of her grip; and then replaced his body mass with a pillow, which, in her comatose state, she cuddled up to, thinking it was him. He tucked her in gently and stood back, both sadness and determination creeping over him. She was beautiful pregnant, and he was sorry that he had to kill her child – because, after all, it was true.

Monster it may have been, and not even _his_, but it was still _her_ child. Half of its genetic makeup came from her; and she carried it within her.

_Her_ child.

And he was sorry for that.

But the child itself… he shivered as he remembered the dream.

He wouldn't let Raven die.

He wouldn't let Seth live.

He _wouldn't_.

Finding himself a candle and a lighter, he gave himself a little light and used it to begin his search of Raven's bookshelves for the "purple book" Jonathon had tipped him off about.

He found it easily; it was the only purple-bound book she had on her shelves. It was old and heavy, and he suppressed a coughing fit from the dust as he lifted it down and sat on the floor with it.

There was no writing on the cover; only on the spine, and it was in Azarathian. Faded and silver; he squinted at it. From days poring over the chart she had drawn up for him and the books she had lent him, he was beginning to become familiar with the symbols. He couldn't read the language fluently, but he could pick out certain phrases and words and letters.

And from what he could pick out here, he presumed that it read _White Enchantments_.

Or something along those lines anyway.

He flipped it open and scanned down the contents page.

Solid block Azarathian. He couldn't make any sense of it at all; not without his chart, which he had put into one of her drawers.

Rummaging around now would wake her up – something he _didn't_ want to do.

Because, quite frankly, she was a pest; and this was the first real peace he had gotten since getting up that morning.

He pushed the book under the bed, blew out the candle and crept out of the room; scuttling silently down the hall, moving from shadow to shadow.

It was raining outside; he paused at one of the huge panel windows to look out at it. The moon – full – peeked out from behind near-opaque storm clouds that came rolling over the city with all the speed and determination of a Harley Davidson rider on Route 66.

He went down to the kitchen, lost in his thoughts.

So lost, in fact, that he wasn't looking where he was going and walked smack straight into the fridge door, which was open.

Cyborg peeked up over it apologetically.

"Sorry…" He grinned and ducked back down again.

"What are you doing?" Robin asked wearily.

"Having a late-night rummage," Cyborg answered from behind the door. "Did you grab those leftover burritos?"

"Star did. Drowned them in mustard."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Robin went to the counter.

"I'm gonna make some coffee. Want some?"

"Sounds good." Cyborg ventured up from the fridge with his arms full of leftovers, kicking the door shut behind him. "You came down at just the right time, Robbie. Now you get to share my midnight leftovers binge."

"So that's where those leftover chicken wings go…

" Robin muttered.

"Hey, if you want 'em, you should eat 'em while they're on your plate, otherwise they're just easy prey for Cy on one of his midnight rummages!"

"So what's your advice?" Robin asked, looking over his shoulder at his friend as he starting laying out everything he had found. "Next time, even if I _really_ can't manage that last slice of pizza, if I don't want _you_ to snag it, I should just stuff it down anyway?"

"Yup!" Cyborg agreed cheerfully. "I mean, even if you _do_ puke it back up after, at least you've stopped anyone else from getting it."

"I'll bear that mind…"

Cyborg tutted mockingly.

"Robin, you're a ruthless crime-fighter, but yo, you aren't nearly as aggressive when it comes to food…"

"Or, to phrase it _another_ way, _you're_ a greedy bum," Robin shot back snippily.

Cyborg shrugged amiably.

"Well, sure, if you wanna get _technical_…"

"What you got?"

"Well…" Cyborg ran his gaze over his haul. "…We have leftover Double Pepperoni and Cajun Chicken with extra cheese and mushrooms pizza from two nights ago, and we have chicken curry in that little plastic tub there, and leftover takeout and egg rolls from that Chinese place on the Lower East Side, ready-cooked Canadian-cured bacon…"

"Anything that's good cold?"

"A half-eaten Hershey bar, two Mallow Blasters, king prawns, cold weenies, rye crackers and a packet of salty liquorice."

"Cool."

Robin came over to the table with plates and the coffee. Cyborg was already scarfing down a slice of cold pizza, the thing hanging out of his mouth, as he opened up the takeout carton and emptied the contents onto the plate Robin had just handed him.

"You want some?"

Robin declined his head and Cyborg put the plate in the microwave.

While Cyborg went back to the pizza as he waited, Robin began a very meticulous method of making a "sandwich", consisting of a strip of Canadian bacon and three king prawns between two dry rye crackers. He also seized the packet of salty liquorice before Cyborg could get his grabby metal mitts on it.

"Somethin' I meant to ask you," Cyborg suddenly said, his mouth full.

Robin looked up, crunching a mouthful of his "sandwich". He cocked his head to imply his question.

"Ray…" Cyborg swallowed and tried again. "Raven."

Robin looked down at the table's surface.

"Cy, I don't know why she's acting so weird, okay?"

Which wasn't actually a lie. He had his _suspicions_, but he didn't know for _sure_…

"I know that." The microwave pinged and Cyborg got up to retrieve his takeout.

"Then what…?"

Cyborg brought his plate back, the takeout now steaming with the heat, and sat down opposite Robin again.

"That ring." Cyborg frowned. "Where did she get it from?"

Robin blinked.

"Ring?"

"Yeah, you know, the one on her finger...?"

Oh, the ring. Of course… it kept slipping his mind…

"Where did she _get_ it?" Robin repeated.

"That's what I said."

"One of the guys from Azarath gave it to her."

Again, not a lie; not a lie at all. Seth _was_ a "guy from Azarath"; it was the truth.

Just not the _whole_ truth.

"Yeah?" Cyborg raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of coffee.

"Yeah. Why?" Robin picked another king prawn from the tub and popped it into his mouth, gazing at Cyborg all the while.

"'Cause she told me _you_ gave it to her."

"What?" Robin stared at him. "No I didn't!"

Cyborg looked very confused now.

"Well, that's what _I_ said," he said slowly. "I mean, _why_ would you buy her a ring in the first place, and even if you _did_, it wouldn't be like _that_ one. Platinum and ruby? I mean, come on… I know you're Bruce Wayne's ward and heir and everything, but it's not like he gives you a two thousand dollar allowance…"

Robin was still staring at him.

"How do you…?"

Cyborg sighed and put down his fork; and then proceeded to explain the "interesting" time he had had with Raven in the jewelry store prior to and after the rounding-up of the Amazing Mumbo. Her hysterical attitude, sudden love of "bunnies", her insistence that it had been _Robin_ who had given her the ring despite Cyborg's logical protests, and the examination by the store manager, who has assured him of its material, value and furthermore that she hadn't picked it up from the shop floor.

It wasn't from _Diamonds Are Forever_.

And so Cyborg just couldn't think where she had gotten it from.

And now Robin said that someone from Azarath had given it to her, but that _he_ hadn't (and _he_ was equally surprised by this revelation); so why was Raven insisting that he _had_?

The cybernetic teen shook his head worriedly.

"I don't like this, man…"

Robin gave a little shiver.

"Neither do I…"

And a third time… it wasn't a lie. Although perhaps an _understatement_... He'd been raped and nearly killed by Slade, possessed, gotten Raven pregnant with a demon child that wasn't even _his_, actually been killed, thrown into the future, nearly murdered twice by Seth, nearly killed by Slade a second time, murdered someone himself, nearly killed by Slade _again_, and now Raven was acting screwy on him, he was set to murder an unborn child, and he had just spoken to the spirit of a murdered senator – a man who had had his _heart_ torn out – via a dream.

No, he _hated_ this, to be frank.

And that _Ghostbusters_ shtick suddenly seemed cruelly ironic, given that Jonathon was…

…_dead_.

"You alright?"

Robin blinked and looked up.

"Hm?"

Cyborg frowned at him.

"You look kinda… _pale_…"

"I admit to neglecting the sunbathing of late…"

"_Shame you couldn't neglect the sarcasm too_," Cyborg muttered, using his fork to go through his takeout and pick out his favourite bits. He started singing "Sweet Child of Mine" under his breath and Robin smiled; Cyborg had a great voice, but that wasn't the reason he was smiling.

"Guns 'n' Roses," he muttered.

"Uh-huh."

"Bruce likes that song."

"It's a good song."

"He used to sing it when he was in a good mood…" Robin grinned as he looked up and saw that Cyborg was staring quizzically at him.

"Yo, what's with the tender reminiscing?" The half-robot asked, wigged.

"The effect was really kinda funny when he was belting out this powerful rock love ballad in full Batman gear…"

"Oh." Cyborg grinned too. "Yeah, I can totally hear him going that…"

"Whoa, _that_ was Bev Hills," Robin commented, arching his eyebrows. "What's next, a gold-plated mailbox?"

"This coming from the guy who's the ward of a _billionaire_ who buys him designer jeans from Saks, Fifth Avenue in _NYC_?

"You know I'm good for it."

"You're spoilt _rotten_." Cyborg handed him his empty cup. "And yo, get your spoilt rotten butt over there and get me another coffee?" His questioning tone showed that he was only teasing, but Robin pretended to be affronted.

"Do I _look_ like your _slave_?"

"Nope," Cyborg replied cheerfully. "My slave is beautiful, blonde and in a leather studded bikini. _You_ don't look _anything_ like her."

"_Too_ much info, wise-guy…"

Cyborg grinned.

"_You_ asked…"

"You know, I think having girls chained to the foot of your bed is illegal," Robin mused, getting up and refilling Cyborg's cup with fresh black coffee from the pot.

"Damn straight. That's why they're in my closet…"

"This conversation, much like the _Ghostbusters_ one, is becoming _way_ too involved," Robin pointed out scathingly, coming back. "While I sincerely doubt that you _actually_ have a couple of scantily-clad supermodels stuffed into your closet, I have just come to the startling conclusion, Cy, that you are a gutterhead…"

Cyborg's grin only broadened.

"You _just_ came to that conclusion? Gee, and I thought you were some kind of brilliant detective…"

There was a moment's silence; and then Robin slammed his hand onto the tabletop.

"Damn! You know what?"

"What?"

"I just _completely_ forgot how to _laugh_!"

Cyborg chuckled, impressed, and lifted his coffee.

"Alright, man, that's gotta be one of your best retorts yet…" He swilled his coffee around the cup. "You mind if I ask you a question, by the way?"

"Go right ahead," Robin replied dryly, "unless it's about that secret stash of back issues of_ Playboy_, because I will deny all knowledge and blame it on Beast Boy…"

"Naturally." Cyborg smiled wryly. "Man, I am gonna need a cold shower if we don't stop talking like this…"

"You're blaming this on _me_?"

"Sure. Usually I just come down here and stuff all the leftover chicken wings and chow mein. None of this smut ever crosses my mind when I'm on my own. I just sit and eat and sing "Sweet Child of Mine" in peace…"

"Sure you do." Robin opened the packet of liquorice and put one of the little round salty sweets in his mouth. "Your question…?"

"Why did you complain about being a slave, but get up to get the coffee anyway?"

Robin opened his mouth; and then closed it again, floundering for an answer. When he couldn't think of one, he responded in the only way he could; sticking his tongue out, and then, when Cyborg turned away, rolling his eyes, flicking a piece of liquorice at him.

Cyborg caught it and ate it.

"Thanks, man…"

Robin seethed in silence for a while; and then his thought process slid back to the more important matter at hand.

He still had questions; and perhaps _Jonathon_ could answer them…

But _Jonathon_ had contacted _him_. How was he to…?

"Cy, can _I_ ask _you_ a question?"

"Sure I'll trade you a night with my love slave for all those issues of _Playboy_…"

"Uh-huh." Robin looked at him reproachfully. "The "Smut Power Hour" is over, Cy; and on a more _serious_ note… if you needed to talk to a… dead person, how would you contact them?"

Cyborg looked up at him incredulously.

"_This_ is a "serious" note?"

"Cy, I'm not playing around."

Cyborg shrugged.

"Go to their grave?"

"No, I mean… okay, not a _dead_ person so much… I mean, they _would_ be dead, but, like… their _spirit_."

"How would you contact a spirit?"

Robin nodded.

"Uh, well…" Cyborg looked at the ceiling. "Crystal ball? A medium? An Ouija Board? A séance? Ghostbusters?"

Robin nodded thoughtfully. Well, he didn't much like the sound of an Ouija Board and wasn't sure where he would get one anyway. He knew that a lot of mediums were fakes, so he couldn't rely on that. Scrying with a crystal ball required a skill that he didn't have.

And Ghostbusters obviously weren't an option.

But a _séance_…

If he found the right incantation in one of Raven's books (and he knew of a few that might have what he was looking for), got the right equipment… he could call Jonathon up and ask him what he needed to know…

…Couldn't he?

For example, what he had meant by "The moon is your hourglass, and it is nearly running out"?

He looked up; Cyborg was finishing up his takeout. He ran the phrase by him, and Cyborg frowned.

"Where did you hear _that_?"

"Oh, I just… read it… somewhere…"

Cyborg shrugged and looked at the calendar.

"I dunno, maybe the new moon? If the moon is your hourglass, but it's almost running out… maybe it means that the hourglass won't be there anymore?"

Robin's eyes widened; and then he smiled.

Because Cyborg was _right_. He could feel it.

The new moon; one night when there would be no moon in the sky at all.

But the moon… it was full right now, and the new moon came right after the full moon, so…

Robin shot out of his seat and dashed over to the calendar – it was a "heavy-duty" one, showing all international holidays – American, British, Canadian, Australian, Japanese, Russian, Sri Lankan… – and the phases of the moon per month.

Robin scanned down October; today was technically, since it was two-thirty in the morning, Wednesday 4th October.

Friday 6th October was the new moon.

Two days.

Did that mean… that Raven's child would be born on _Friday_?

"What's up with _you_?" Cyborg asked, irked.

"Nothing…" Robin backed away from the calendar towards the door. "I just have to…"

"Robin, do me a favour," Cyborg put in as Robin reached for the handle.

"Yeah?"

"Look into that ring for me? You're the one she keeps following around, maybe she'll tell you…"

Robin nodded.

"You got it, Cy."

"Thanks, man. It's been niggling me since Friday…"

Robin raised an eyebrow.

"_Welcome to my world_…"

"Robin!"

Robin had just gone out the door; but now he poked his head back around quizzically.

"Mm?"

Cyborg put his head in his hands as he gazed long and hard at the Boy Wonder.

"…You _were_ just kidding about those hidden _Playboy_ magazines… _right_?"

—

The storm clouds were well over the city now; and so was the rain, and with it, the thunder and lightning.

Those stormy brothers did their job rather _too_ well at times…

Robin watched it out of one of the top floor windows for a while, and then crept back into Raven's bedroom, praying he didn't wake her.

Unfortunately, she was already awake and standing at the window, gazing out at the storm with her hands on her belly; singing "Hush, little baby" very softly in a hauntingly beautiful voice that also gave him the creeps.

She saw him slip into the room in the reflection of the window and her singing died off.

"Where have you been?" She asked, not turning around.

"Couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs and had a coffee with Cy."

"Coffee will make your insomnia worse," she pointed out perkily.

He crossed the floor and slipped behind her; she reached back, grasped his wrists and encircled his arms around her shoulders, holding his hands to keep them in place.

Outside, lightning flashed, illuminating them both in white for a few moments; and in that light, the ruby ring on Raven's finger flashed.

As the thunder rolled, Robin slipped his hand down on top of hers.

"Ray, the ring…?" He cleared his throat. "Where did you get it?"

He was surprised to note that her reflection looked a little irked.

"_You_ gave it to me!"

Okay, he could hear that she was a bit… _annoyed_ by the question; so perhaps he should play along with her instead of straight-out denying it.

"Refresh my memory, then. When did I give it to you?"

"Oh, a while back. You told me that it was special and that I should never take it off, or allow anyone else to take it off either…"

"I did?"

She beamed and nodded.

"Mm-hm!"

"Well… could I have a look at it?"

Raven grasped at her own hand protectively.

"No! You told me to never remove it!"

"Yeah, well…" Robin was exasperated, but decided again that, for now, it would be better to just agree with her and "admit" that he had given it to her. "…I want to see it for a moment. You can put it back on again once I've—"

"No!" Raven sounded hysterical. "You made me vow never to take it off, and I won't break that vow, not even for you."

"Why would I… I mean, why did I do _that_?"

Raven shrugged, still gripping her hand.

"I don't know, but I will honour my vow. It stays on my finger."

"Alright, alright, fine…" Robin gave in wearily, more confused than ever.

_Why_ did she think that _he_ had given it to her? She even seemed to have false memories about it…

He sighed and turned her around, steering her towards the bed.

"C'mon, Ray, sleepy-time…"

She perked up.

"Alright…"

She got under the covers and curled up in his arms when he joined her, sighing contentedly as though this was all she had ever wished for…

He waited until she was soundly asleep before finding her hand in the dark beneath the sheets and attempting to slip the ring off her finger.

But it wouldn't come off.

He tugged and tugged at it as much as he dared; it wasn't _stuck_, because he could still move it up and down easily.

It just _wouldn't_ come off, as though her finger was a strong magnet that attracted the metal. He would pull it so far and it would be yanked back out of his fingers.

Great; something _else_ to add to his Worry List (and it was getting very long at this point).

Because it wasn't, in truth, that the ring _wouldn't_ be taken off.

It was that it _couldn't_ be taken off.

* * *

Laying down his pen with his aching hand, Robin leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes stung and his mind buzzed from an entire day of poring over books and charts in English and Latin and Azarathian; so much that it was all garbled in his brain and he wasn't sure if he was even _thinking_ in English anymore…

Maybe he shouldn't talk to anyone for a while; unless he expected them to understand a stream of tangled, clumsy and inarticulate English, Azarathian and Latin.

But it was done.

The purple book had been a goldmine; and Robin had quickly found the perfect spell. It had taken him six hours to translate it from Azarathian to Latin and then from Latin to English using the phrasebooks and charts Raven had given him, having had the peace and quiet to do so because Raven had gone to the mall, Starfire was cooking and Cyborg and Beast Boy had acquired a new video game.

He would have translated the text straight to English but because Azarathian was a language from another whole dimension, he thought it might come out more accurately if he went to Latin first and then to English. It was also an easier process that way, even though it took longer.

It was a spell that required the enchantment of two items; the weapon itself (which, in this case, was the Blade of Azar) and a pentacle made from black obsidian, a stone that was associated with protective qualities.

Overall, the spell required a lot of actions to be taken to ensure its effectiveness, and he wasn't looking forward to doing any of it at all, but for the most part it was easy to follow and understand. It just seemed like a lot of pointless rigmarole went on before it – things that he would rather skip to speed up the process.

Taking a candlelit bath beforehand was one of them.

Here they were, on a tight schedule as it was, racing against the phases of the moon; and he had this spell demanding that he lie up in a tub for an hour. It was, allegedly, for "purification" reasons; a cleansing of the mind, body and soul.

Which, okay, he could understand; and perhaps he would have found that idea of it a little more tolerable if the thing hadn't _then_ gone on to demand that he put scented essential oils into the water, and _crystals_, for petesakes…

So he wasn't too thrilled about that; he didn't like baths much anyway – they were, in his opinion, a _complete_ waste of time, when a shower was _so_ much quicker and more convenient…

He did, however, understand the reason for this too; the oils had to be those associated with protection, and the same applied to the crystals.

So that left him with frankincense for the oil and black obsidian and turquoise for the crystals. The oil was to cleanse any negativity from him and the crystals were to charge him with their protective merits.

But just because he understood and was _willing_ to do it didn't mean he had to _like_ it.

The second thing… again, it was to do with the so-called "associated items" of protection spells. These were that blue was the associated colour of protection – and so he was required to wear something blue – and that the associated number was eight, so he had to wear eight of something.

He had a way of remedying both of these things, and would sort that out later. In fact, he would sort all of his ingredients out later.

Because first, before he even began, he needed some questions answered.

And he knew that there was only one way he could get the answers.

And so, after translating the spell and running over it a few times, he had turned his attention to another book that had caught his eye two days ago while he had been searching for a spell. Heavy, black and old, he had rifled through it and again quickly located what he was after; instructions for a séance.

It was in Latin; and so it had only taken him three hours to translate it instead of six.

And now he had what he needed.

Pushing all of his scribbled notes together, Robin locked them in his desk drawer and went to have a shower.

—

At 1:15am, Robin slithered out of Raven's arms as he had done the night before, slipped the box he had made up from under the bed and crept out of the room.

Initially, he had thought about using the Communications Center (a.k.a: the front room/the TV room/the Den/whatever else Beast Boy chose to call it) to perform his séance, as he needed quite a bit of empty space, but then had decided against it, considering that Cyborg might come dandering through at any given moment on one of his late-night raids of the fridge.

So he opted for the gym, where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed at this time of night.

Locking the door behind him, Robin set his cardboard box down on one of the wooden benches and knelt down, beginning to take the things out.

Eight small white tea lights.

One large white church candle.

A book of matches.

A small sharp knife.

And the book.

Carrying everything over to a space in the middle of the gym, Robin made a largish circle using the eight tea lights; ripping a match from the book, he lit them, the hair at the back of his neck already beginning to prickle with anxiety and nervousness.

He was going to attempt to call up a ghost – a _murdered_ person – all by himself.

Even the book had advised that it was not wise to conduct a séance alone; but what choice did he have?

He needed some answers, and he had a feeling that Jonathon might be able to give them to him.

And what other way did he have of contacting the dead senator?

Turning off the gym lights, he crossed the floor again and sat in the middle of the circle, laying the book down open in the middle of it. Picking up the thick church candle and the knife, he swiftly carved the name _JONATHON VAUGHAN _into the wax and then placed the candle on the gym floor above the book. He lit it and put the matches and the knife aside; and then got comfortably cross-legged in the middle of the circle, just beyond the open book, and breathed deeply to calm himself down.

What was the worst that could happen? He could call up the ghost of an evil person instead? A killer or a rapist; perhaps axe murderer Lizzie Borden, or John Wilkes Booth, Rebel assassin of President Lincoln?

He sighed; no, it wasn't possible. This spell was personalised – by carving Jonathon's name into the candle, it would seek his spirit and his alone. If he could not be located or reached, Robin would get no contact at all.

It was Jonathon or nothing.

That in mind, he was a little comforted.

A _little_.

Still breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and concentrated and pushing everything out of his mind to clear it; and then concentrated on _keeping_ it clear.

Just an empty blank white…

He took another deep breath and exhaled and then spoke the words he had gone over and over in his head in the shower and during dinner;

"Beloved Jonathon, dearly departed, I ask that you descend from the World Beyond and that you walk once more among the living and commune once more with those of the mortal realm…"

He breathed again, and then repeated it twice more, his voice dull, chant-like…

He paused, wondering if he should begin again—

And then the candle flames all flickered and there was a sudden and noticeable drop in the temperature of the room.

And then, even stranger, Robin began to feel a subtle pain in his chest, roughly around the position of his heart.

"Jonathon…?" He asked tentatively.

"Open your eyes."

Recognizing Jonathon's voice – echoing as though he stood in space – Robin took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

He gasped.

The gym had disappeared; and in its place was…

…_nothing_…

A white oblivion; sheer nothingness as far as the eye could see.

He was standing, not sitting; and looking down, he saw that he was no longer in his pyjamas, but in his red, yellow and green uniform.

He was about the wheel around and search for Jonathon, but—

"Don't turn around!"

Jonathon's voice again; this time his tone more imperative.

"Jonathon?" Robin noticed that his own voice was a little shaky. "What's…?"

"It's an illusion; you're technically still sitting on the floor of the gym. If you turn around and face me you'll shatter it."

"Where are you?"

"Right behind you." Jonathon's voice was calmer now. "We're back to back."

Robin looked around as much as he was allowed.

"What happened? I wasn't expecting… _this_…"

"Most séances _aren't_ like this," Jonathon agreed. "For the most part, if you were to conduct a séance, you wouldn't even be able to hear me talking; we would have to communicate through a rapping sequence or an Ouija Board. But this time, the spell you chose, coupled with the fact that I am not a mortal, but Azarathian… you conjured an illusion."

"But we can't face each other?"

"No. If you turn around, the illusion will be broken and our communication will be cut off."

"How long will this last?"

"Until the flame of the candle completely melts the whole of my name."

"Oh." Robin smiled. "Good thing you have a pretty long name then. "Jonathon" on its own is eight letters."

"The "J" and half of the "o" are already gone. You don't have as long as you might think. I know that you have many things to ask me; I urge you to begin your "interrogation". I will answer you as fully as I am allowed, or to the best of my knowledge."

"Alright." Robin sorted out his mind order and folded his arms. "I expect you know already which spell I took from the purple book?"

"Actually, I _don't_ know, but as there are only two types of protection spell in there, I'm going to go for the "Enchanted Black Obsidian Pentacle" one…"

"Right. I think I've translated it correctly, but I can't read the Azarathian – I can only translate it to Latin by comparing the texts. Do I have to speak it in Azarathian, or can it be in Latin or English?"

"As long as you're doing everything right, you can speak it in English if you would feel more comfortable."

Robin sighed with relief.

"Good. I'm less likely to mess it up if it's in English…"

"We're down to "a". What else?"

"The bath before the spell is necessary?"

"Afraid so."

"There's a… _rule_, I think…" Robin frowned. "The spell requires… I mean, it has to be performed _after_ the first star has shone in the sky. Is that true? I am restricted that much that I can't just do it tomorrow morning?"

Jonathon nodded, even though Robin couldn't see him.

"Again, I am afraid so…"

"When you said "the moon is your clock, and it is nearly running out,"… you meant the moon phases, right? The new moon?"

"I am not allowed to say, but I think you know, Robin…"

"Right." Robin nodded. "New moon is tomorrow night; Friday 6th October. Raven's child is going to be born tomorrow night?"

"Unless you stop it."

"But I can't perform the spell until after the light of the first night star?"

"Right."

"_Why_?" Robin demanded.

"The book I recommended to you – and therefore the spell itself – is an Azarathian variant of Wicca."

"What's _that_ got to do with anything?"

"Wicca relies on a balance of the masculine and feminine elements of the worlds around us; the sun – no matter which sun – is always masculine, and the moon – and you will remember that Azarath has two, Metrion and Zinthos – is feminine. Different spells require the power of the different "gender elements"; for example, spells for courage and victory are associated with the masculine side of the belief, whereas spells for love, fertility and protection obviously need to tap into the feminine power. Therefore, because your spell is one of protection, it requires the power of the moon to help create the magic. Or… well, even though it is a new moon, the moon will still _be_ there, even though you can't see it. Hence, it must be performed after the light of the first star, but before it fades and begins to lose its full power and magical potential."

"Well." Robin couldn't think of anything else to add. "_Well_," he said again grouchily.

Wicca; why did he have a nasty feeling that it was going to be plaguing him from now on?…

"The ring?"

"What ring?" Jonathon sounded puzzled; and of course Robin had to go by his tone of voice, not being allowed to turn and face him.

"On her finger. The one Seth gave her."

"Uh…" Jonathon gave a weary little sigh. "I'm afraid I didn't even know he had given her a ring. If you remember, he bumped me off quite before any of this business with you going forward and back in time…"

His voice sounded a little bitter and Robin felt a deep pang of pity for him.

"Oh, yeah, I… Jonathon, I'm—"

"Sorry?" Jonathon laughed coolly. "Yeah, me too. I never got the chance to wring his scrawny little half-demon neck… Tell Raven I owe her one…"

"Raven. Spill. What do you know? Why is she acting so… un-Raven-like?"

"I am afraid I do not have the answer to that."

"You don't _know_… or you aren't allowed to _say_?"

"I don't know. I truly don't. It's possibly a side-effect of her rather strange pregnancy."

Robin sighed.

"I'm counting on it. It's making my life hell…"

"You're doing very well, I have to say. All that translation… I am very impressed," Jonathon said warmly.

"I just hope it goes right…"

"As long as you practise so that you know what you're doing, you'll be fine. Both Earth-bound Wicca and its Azarathian variant do not require the spellcaster to have any magical powers like the ones I had while alive, or the Senate's, or even Raven's… As long as you have the right ingredients, the right words and the right state of mind, you can make the magic happen. That's why I steered you towards the purple book. Raven has spells in other books that are far more powerful and don't have a "curfew" on them like your spell does. She could perform them, or I would have been able to, or Marcus, or… well, you get the picture. But _you_ couldn't do them – you haven't the power, the knowledge or the expertise. I do, however, believe that Azarathian Wicca is the perfect choice for someone of your novice skills. As long as you do everything exactly as you have translated, you will prevail."

"So now I'm supposed to wish Batman had taught me how to command things to transform into something else instead of how to catch crooks?"

"Robin, as the Teen Titans, you and your friends are a team. You each have your strengths and weaknesses and your areas of expertise. Raven's is magic and the light and dark arts; yours is martial arts and detection. It is unfortunate that you have had her duty thrust upon you when you know so little about it, but you are coping very well under the circumstances. You should be proud of yourself; and if not, and _still_ you doubt your abilities, look around you. Look at what you have created; _you_ did this. Made the magic to conjure this illusion in which we now speak. Not bad going for someone who claims to know nothing at all of these arts…"

Robin paused in silence for a moment or two; Jonathon spoke the truth, but that still didn't stop him from worrying about the next night, and he told the dead senator so.

"Robin," Jonathon replied quietly, "I admit I would be extremely dubious if you _weren't_ worried… Arrogance coupled with over-confidence is a festering breeding ground for failure; and if you do not believe _that_, just look at what happened to Seth to prove my point. Attempting to play God is _never_ a good idea, especially when you're dealing with someone like _Raven_…"

Robin considered that for a moment; and finally he smiled.

"Yup; we've all learned by now that messing with Raven is a _really_ bad idea… Of course, _BB_ has suffered for that lesson more than the rest of us…"

Jonathon smiled.

"I can understand that… Do you have any other questions? We are down to the first "a" of "Vaughan" already…"

"It's burning quickly," Robin commented in surprise.

"This is a powerful illusion which is sustained by the flame; it takes a lot of power and so the flame burns through the wax a lot more quickly than it would on a normal candle."

"Well, can I ask you one more thing?"

"Sure."

"When you first appeared – or when the illusion first became real, I felt… something, like… um…"

"Pain?"

"Yeah. Real slight, like, above my… heart?"

"Ah." Jonathon gave a little laugh. "A common characteristic of séances. Sometimes you will feel a subtle ache in the area of the body that was the cause of the deceased's… uh, _death_. So say they get shot in the head, you might get a bit of a headache…"

"Oh." Robin felt another guilty pang as he realised… "…Your heart…"

"Yup." Jonathon sounded quite cheerful about it. "I had my heart torn out, so you got a bit of a pain there…"

Robin winced.

"Nice…"

"Anything else?"

"No, I think – I _hope_ – that's everything…"

"You'll be fine."

"How do we end this?"

"Turn around and the illusion will break."

"Okay… Uh, Jonathon?"

"Mmm?"

"…Thanks…"

Jonathon waved it away.

"It's cool…"

Robin took a deep breath and turned around. Jonathon faced him too and gave him a wicked grin—

And then there was a sudden sharp sound like a hammer being smashed squarely into a mirror; and around him, the entire white oblivion suddenly cracked as though it was a mirror too, and as though Jonathon was a reflection. One by one, the pieces fell away to reveal a blackness beyond and then everything – including the senator's ghost manifestation – was gone.

Just black.

Robin opened his eyes; and there he was, in his pyjamas, sitting in the middle of his lit circle on the gym floor.

A grin slowly stole across his face.

He was hardly Raven; or Zatanna; or even the Amazing Mumbo.

But _that_ hadn't been bad; not bad _at all._

He blew out the altar candle and rose to go turn on the gym light; then he blew out his eight tea lights, picked everything up and put it back into the box. Sneaking back upstairs, he slipped secretly into Raven's room, pushed the box under the bed and then slid back under the covers.

In her sleep, Raven nuzzled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He stiffened as he felt a little kick from the baby against his side.

Gave a little shiver.

And then he smiled.

* * *

Exciting stuff.

I'd hint at what comes next… if I could remember.

Happy birthday to YamiTai!

- RR xXx

P.S: Salty liquorice is a Swedish thing, I believe. You can buy it in Ikea. Dunno why the Titans have it…


	37. Tell It Like It Is

Ugh…

Must… update… faster…

Haven't updated since December, and jeez… As I keep saying, this story is already _written_. I finished it in November 2006.

…Why the hell is it taking me so long to get it out there?!

Thankyou to: **TheFallenAngel67, Me, Amara-chan, Dragonprincess1988, YamiTai, Brendan Aurabolt, dlsky, Guardian of Azarath, Someone, Simmie, The Fate of an Amaryllis **and** Kitty-Katz-Katz.**

Oh, Magic, Magick, Magique… Brendan Aurabolt mentioned that in his review, that I seemed knowledgeable about 'real magick' (thankyou, Brendan!). That's an exaggeration. I'm not "knowledgeable" on it, per se. I'm not a Wicca or – _worse_ – a wannabe-Wicca or… well, you get the picture. Respect to all who follow that stuff, peace out and all, but… nah, you're okay, don't think I'll be joining you.

The reason I am able to make such a decision is RESEARCH. Most of the magic used in this latter part of _Remember the Titans_ is real or, at least, based on real magic (well, as real as it gets in a book called _Practical Magic – White Spells for Day to Day_ I bought in a bookshop). I suppose that does make me knowledgeable, given the research – I know how these "spells" work", at least, but I've never done one. The final spell used by Robin in the next chapter or the chapter after or… well, _soon_, anyway… is one I made up after doing all this reading, combining loads of elements of different types of protection spells.

But I didn't want to just make some random stuff up. The magic in this is more realistic than the magic in _Harry Potter_ or _Artemis Fowl _(to an extent).

Anyway… yeah. That's that. How exciting…

Gawd, it's nearly 5:30am here in Britain…

Tell It Like It Is

Although the events of the previous night now seemed like a dream to him – his séance and resulting illusional contact with Jonathon Vaughan – Robin knew that he was very much living in the real world.

He knew that before today was through, he was going to have been put to a very difficult test – one which he must succeed in passing if he was to save Raven and prevent Seth's resurrection. He had a busy day ahead of him; and the butterflies in his stomach were getting butterflies of their own.

As was their usual practice, he had slipped from her room at 6:00am to get dressed and ready to face the day ahead in his own room – where he _should_ have been. It was so as not to arouse the suspicions of the other team members; because although there was nothing actually going on in that bed except for Raven squeezing him like she thought he was something far softer than he really was, it would have looked extremely…

Well. He had decided that one of the other Titans seeing him and Raven leaving her room in the morning together would be a very _bad_ thing.

Which, of course, it _would_ be.

Even if they _did_ jump to conclusions…

Looking at the clock, Robin read 9:45am.

Buckling his belt around his waist, he frowned as he realised that he had to tighten it another notch. Over the past few weeks, he admitted that his appetite hadn't been too healthy; first following his depression after being raped in Arkham Asylum, and then through all of his worrying about the baby, those few days living off bread and instant coffee in that fifteen-years-ahead future hadn't helped, and now he had spent _another_ entire week worrying about the baby all over again, only now he was worrying about Raven too, and the spell he knew he had to perform and, more to the point, perform perfectly.

It wasn't really very noticeable, but he had definitely lost weight.

As opposed to _Raven_, who was so huge by now – on this day that she, although she did not know it, was due to give birth – it absolutely astounded him how much her stomach had stretched. Perhaps it was just that he had never seen anyone this far gone before, but it seemed beyond the realm of bodily capability. In just two weeks – as was the nature of _this_ pregnancy – she looked ready for the forceps.

It was ironic that she chose to put in an appearance at that moment; he heard the sound of his panel being slid back and watched her enter in the reflection in his mirror.

She was beaming, her hood down and her cloak covering her body.

"I went to the mall yesterday!" She told him happily, shutting the door behind her.

He suppressed a weary sigh and plastered a big smile on his face as he turned to her.

"I know, you told me yesterday…" The smile flickered painfully. "…About ten times…"

"I bought things."

"No dip…" The smile was beginning to make his face hurt.

"Would you like to see what I bought?"

_**No**_. _Definitely not…_

"Sure," he lied, his voice bouncy.

"Ta-daa!" She cried happily, throwing her arms out and sweeping her cloak back in one movement.

In place of the oversized-T-shirt-and-jeans combo he had given to her was a black dress with little sleeves and a plunging neckline, complimenting her fuller figure, with a knee-length fishtail bottom that had a 40's-ness about it. She was wearing matching black kitten heels on her feet and looked very pleased with herself.

"New clothes," Robin acknowledged boredly.

"_Maternity wear_," she reprimanded him, pouting. She rubbed one hand fondly over her swollen abdomen. "See how perfectly it fits over my bump?"

"Raven, that's a _cocktail_ dress," Robin replied snippily. "You know, _evening_ wear?"

"I like it," Raven sniffled.

"What else did you buy?" Robin asked warily, hoping that she hadn't broken the bank, considering she wasn't going to be needing

that maternity wear by this time tomorrow.

"Some more clothes, a few baby things…"

"Did you keep the receipts?" Robin asked faintly.

"Mm-hm!" She nodded vigorously. "You know, just in case something doesn't fit or… you know…"

_Yeah. You don't __**have**__ it or something…_

"Oh, and I got you something too!" Raven went on happily.

"Yeah?"

She nodded again; and produced from beneath her cloak something folded up and black.

"Here." She handed it to him, still smiling, and he took it warily.

Unfolding it and holding it by the corners, he let it fall to its full extent to reveal itself as a T-shirt.

Across the chest, in stylized white writing on the black cotton, was _Daddy in Training_.

He masked his alarm and disgust by slapping another grin on his face.

"Cool." There wasn't much feeling in it, but Raven seemed happy enough.

"I knew you would like it," she told him as he nonchalantly turned it over, (unbeknownst to her searching for the tag).

And when he didn't find one, he looked up at her again, his expression very droll.

"To the extent that you thought it would be a good idea _to pull the tag off?_"

She beamed again and nodded.

"What if it doesn't fit?" He snapped; what he actually meant "How am I supposed to take it back _now_?".

Because there was no way in all of _Hell_ that he was going to wear _this_.

"Well, they only had them in men's sizes, not boys'," Raven explained, "because… well, most fathers-to-be are adults. And with the teenager clothes they go by age, so I would have gotten you a 16-17, but because it was a man's T-shirt, I just had to go for X-Small. So it will fit you, I think. I think that X-Small is about the equivalent of 17-18…"

Although this was the most logical thing she had said since arriving back from the future time and going loopy on him, he still stared at her. Even if it _did_ fit perfectly, _why_ had she pulled off the tag? Hadn't it occurred to her that he might not _want_ it (which he didn't)?

He _had_ to get the old Raven back.

Raven pawed at his arm.

"Put it on," she wheedled.

"Not right now, Ray." He folded it up again, trying to think of a way of getting rid of it.

Throwing it on Jump City's tire fire or selling it on eBay both seemed like good ideas to him…

"_Please_?"

"No." He relented a little when he saw her hurt expression. "Later," he promised.

_By which time you'll be back to normal…_

She blinked and smiled at him, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet – and her kitten heels.

He felt weird inside – interfused anger, sorrow, guilt and worry. He was angry, in a way, that he had to kill the baby, because it was Raven's child, demon or not; and he was sorry, too, and even _guilty_, that it had come to this.

Ironically, he would have _preferred_ it if it had been his child. That would have given them an entire nine months to worry and sort everything out, and a normal human child would have been the result of it. It was true, he didn't really want a baby at all, but in retrospect would rather have had the responsibility of having a real baby to take care of than for it to be so purely evil that he had to kill it while still in the womb.

He shuddered; he was turning into a bit of a serial killer…

But it was this or allow Raven to die and procure Seth's resurrection. Killing the child was the lesser of two evils, no two ways about it.

And so he was ready to do what he _had_ to.

The way he had been taught.

"Anyway, Ray," he said perkily, snapping himself out of his silent reverie, "with you so far along, I thought maybe it was time we stopped keeping this a secret."

Raven's eyes positively sparkled.

"We're going to tell our friends?"

"Think it's about time, huh?"

Raven nodded crazily and clapped her hands in a way that reminded Robin uncomfortably of Starfire.

For that was true too; with Seth's demise, Robin no longer loved Raven in a sexual way.

Only as a very, very good friend. One of his _best_ friends.

He would go to any lengths to protect her; to _save_ her.

But he did not _love_ her.

Raven knew this, deep down inside her somewhere; her _true_ self. But whatever had made her change… well, her "alter-ego" seemed to be blissfully unaware of the fact.

As much as she was blissfully unaware that the child she carried wasn't even _his_; and that it wasn't _human_.

That it was pure stinking _evil_.

And so, it was time to remedy this; and lay down the law. And the other Titans would have to know sooner or later, so… why not just tell them all together?

"So, I was thinking," he went on brightly, "we could go down and tell them now, at breakfast. Sound like a good idea?"

She nodded vigorously again.

"Okay." He flapped his hands at her to leave the room. "Come on then…"

She wheeled and went to the door, checking once to see if he was still behind her. He smiled, following her, and she was satisfied.

He threw the T–shirt into his trash basket on the way out.

—

Despite being used to having his plans frequently spoiled by what was known as Murphy's Law, or even Sod's Law, he was still surprised by the greeting he and Raven received when they walked into the kitchen, Raven behind Robin; and so close to him she was practically walking into him.

"Dudes!" Beast Boy squealed, leaping up from his chair the moment he saw them; there was a newspaper clutched in his hand. "Have you _seen_ what is on the second page of this morning's _Jump City Times_?"

"No," Robin answered warily as Beast Boy waved the newspaper around in front of him. "Did another villain escape? Someone from Arkham Asylum? Or did Lois Lane _finally_ figure out that Clark Kent is Superman?"

"Nope!" Cyborg was at his side, grinning hugely. "It's _hilarious_!"

He snatched the paper from Beast Boy, found the page and thrust it at Robin; the Boy Wonder took it and smoothed it out, reading the headline.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Because it hadn't occurred to him at all…

…that _Raven_, one of the Teen Titans – pretty much the celebrities of Jump City – going into a _maternity wear store_ would get attention.

And he had been stupid _not_ to think of it.

_TEEN TITAN? TRY TEEN MOTHER! _

He read the headline over and over again, aghast. The article itself was of a haughty, almost sneering nature, rattling on about the significant rise in teen pregnancies over the last few years, and about how the Teen Titans were supposed to be role models to the public of Jump City, and more specifically the teenaged population, and what sort of example were they…?

It went on and on; and eventually he looked up in disgust – the article had moved on to badmouthing Batman and Robin himself, partially blaming them, and saying that Batman wasn't a good influence on Robin and in turn Robin couldn't be a good influence on the Titans.

At the bottom of the page were the results of a phone-in poll that had obviously been started the previous evening in the _Jump City Evening Times_; the question was reprinted in bold writing, and beneath it were four little bar charts, one significantly higher than the other three.

He was half-horrified and half-amused as he read it;

_Which male Titan is the father of Raven's baby?_

There a very small bar marked "Other"; implying someone outside of the Titans.

Not many people seemed to think that it was someone else; either that, or they didn't _want_ to think that. If it was one of the other Titans, it was _so_ much more exciting; like a soap-opera, of sorts. As though Titans Tower was some kind of brothel…

The second smallest bar was Cyborg's.

The second _largest_ bar was Beast Boy's.

And the largest – by far the longest – was Robin's.

He was horrified that he seemed to have gained a reputation of this sort for himself, and even a little irked because he knew that it probably had something to do with the article above it; no doubt the previous evening's had contained badmouthing of a similar nature in it.

Technically _Batman_ was getting the blame for this.

And he was _amused_, in a strange way, and for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on.

And because Cyborg and Beast Boy didn't know that it was true; and that Raven actually _was_ pregnant with "his" child, he could see why they found it so funny.

Starfire appeared behind the two boys.

"I do not find it as greatly amusing as they," she told Robin rather stiffly, "but I wish to know why the paper of the news has such lies written in it. How can they make up stories that are not true and expect people to believe them?"

"Duh, Star," Beast Boy replied, looking over his shoulder at her. "That's what newspapers make their _money_ off. Journalists are nothing more than paid liars."

Meanwhile, Robin folded up the newspaper and handed it back to Cyborg silently.

Cyborg and Beast Boy frowned at him; and at Raven, who was hiding behind him.

"Uh, Robin, you aren't laughing…"

Robin pulled Raven around in front of him and wrenched her cloak open

"I'm not laughing because it is, unfortunately, true," he said with conviction. And then he frowned, and added; "Well, mostly…"

Cyborg, Beast Boy and Starfire stared at Raven's swollen stomach as though their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets.

Raven beamed.

"We're going to have a baby!" She announced happily.

"Wait, you…?" Cyborg looked wildly from Raven to Robin several times, his eyes huge. "Robin… you…?"

"Actually-" Robin started.

"Robin, this is…?" Starfire interrupted, then trailed off, her voice faint.

"Well, we-" Robin started again, beginning to become irritated.

"Dude, you knocked up _Raven_?" Beast Boy burst out, getting right in Robin's face.

Robin pushed him away irritably.

"That's a pretty crass way of putting it," he replied coldly.

"But it's _true_, right?" Cyborg was awed.

"Uh, not—"

"Yes!" Raven threw her arms around Robin's neck, smiling broadly. "He made me pregnant and now we're going to have a baby!"

Robin laughed weakly, disentangling her arms from around his neck as he saw Starfire simmering behind Cyborg, her face dark and angry.

"Actually, Ray, you—"

"This is unacceptable!" Starfire interrupted; the alien princess was clearly furious, with equal measure of jealousy.

"Actually, Robin, I gotta agree with her," Cyborg added gravely. "Getting another member of the team pregnant is _so_ not a good thing…"

"Have you seen what they said about us in the paper?" Beast Boy was distracted. "They think we're a bunch of sex maniacs!"

"UNACCEPTABLE!" Starfire stormed, flying above Cyborg and Beast Boy.

Raven was distraught.

"Aren't you happy for us?" She rubbed her stomach forlornly. "Everyone will be able to _share_ the baby. We can-"

"Raven, you aren't seeing the big picture here!" Cyborg snapped. "This is really bad press for the Titans!" He looked at first Raven and then Robin in disgust. "How could the pair of you be so _stupid_?"

"If you'd _listen_, I-" Robin started.

"How come _you_ got the highest vote?" Beast Boy wanted to know, jabbing the poll results. "What makes everyone think _you're_ the team hottie?" He scowled at the poll results again. "_Even if it __**is**__ true_…"

"_Is_ it true?" Cyborg probed.

"Is _what_ true?" Robin asked jadedly.

"_That_!" Cyborg said, exasperated, pointing wildly at Raven's swollen midsection. "It _is_ yours, right?"

"Yes!" Raven put in excitedly.

"Actually…" Robin pushed through them all and calmly went over to the coffee pot. "…It's _not_."

"_WHAT?_" The other four – including Raven – were all staring at him across the room.

"But the newspaper-"

"But you just said-"

"What do you mean, it's _not_-?"

"Then whose _is_ it?"

The last demand was from Raven, who pushed through the other three after him.

"Robin, what are you _on_?" Cyborg interrogated warily. "_'Cause I want some_…" he muttered as an afterthought.

Getting himself a cup of coffee, the Boy Wonder turned to them all, much calmer now that he had them all in his thrall.

"You heard me." He raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his black coffee. "It's not mine."

"Of _course_ it's yours!" Raven said defensively, hugging her stomach.

He foresaw a repeat of the conversation – or rather, _argument_ – he had had with her back in the warehouse a week ago following their return to the present.

"Look, don't start this again!" He snapped, his eyebrows skewing in real irritation. "We've had this conversation before!"

"Uh, _when_?" Cyborg put in as he, Starfire and Beast Boy joined them.

"In the warehouse last week," Robin said dismissively.

"_It's yours_!" Raven stated, sounding very distressed.

"Right, right, hang on…" Beast Boy popped up between everyone, flapping his hands. "Let me get this straight… Raven is pregnant; and _waaay_ pregnant at that. The newspaper knew before _we_ all did, Robin got the highest vote for the probability of being the father, Raven says he _is_ the father, but Robin says he _isn't_ even though earlier he said that it was true…"

"I never _once_ said _I_ was the father," Robin pointed out coolly. "I said that it was true that she was pregnant."

Beast Boy looked around at everyone; and then folded his arms.

"_What's _going on here?" He asked.

"Yes," Starfire added stonily. "_What_ is going on here, might I be permitted to know?"

"Robin?" Cyborg looked at him for an explanation. "An answer would be good. Our friend and team-mate is pregnant, she says _you_ are the father, which would imply that you both… um, well… made a baby, or at least did the necessary procedure _for_ making a baby. And if you _aren't_ the father, then has Raven slept with someone else and it's _theirs_ even though she believes it's _yours_, and…?"

Cyborg trailed off, very confused.

"It's _his_!" Raven protested shrilly, pointing crazily at Robin. "He's lying! I haven't slept with _anyone else_!"

"Wait, so you and Raven…" Beast Boy looked from Robin to Raven in utter awe. "You guys… actually… _did_ _it_?"

"No… Yes…" Robin sighed and put his coffee down. "Look, I have a lot of explaining to do to make everything clear to all of you. Could we please all sit down?"

"It's heavy?" Cyborg asked wearily.

"_Way_ heavy." Robin actually managed to crack a smile. "A tale of sex, lies, deceit, betrayal, magic, prophecy, broken vows, time-travel… well, you name it, it's in there…"

"Is Elvis in there?" Beast Boy asked.

"If you count the panel picture outside _Jazz Central USA_, then yes he is," Robin replied coolly, sitting down at the kitchen table and gesturing for everyone to join him.

Cyborg and Beast Boy sat, puzzled, bewildered and interested all at once.

Raven sat rather sulkily next to Cyborg.

Fuming, Starfire wouldn't even come to the table, instead perching on the worktop. Robin knew that she was listening, though; and didn't have it in his heart to feel sorry for her at the moment, not when he had so many other things to worry about right now…

"First of all, I have a _lot_ to say," Robin said, setting his cup of coffee down in front of him. "Please don't interrupt me unless it's really urgent, or I'll forget where I was."

Everyone nodded, even though the girls both looked at him rather balefully.

Okay, so he wasn't, at the moment, very popular among the female residents of Titans Tower.

"And secondly," Robin went on, "I will say it again and start from there; the baby _isn't_ mine."

Raven opened her mouth to protest and he shot her a murderous look that silenced her.

"But here's where it begins to get complicated… I _did_ impregnate her…"

He looked around at them all.

"Are you all ready for this?"

One by one, they all nodded.

"Alright…"

And from there he began to slowly piece together, for and in front of them, the entire jigsaw; for the first time, he spoke of his ordeal in Arkham Asylum to them, explaining the "prophecy" as fully as he was able; and then spoke of his time in Azarath, sparing the detail of what had gone on between him and Raven but implying it heavily, explained that it had been Head Senator Seth Elliott who had removed his soul and murdered fellow senator Jonathon Vaughan; and then, as they stared at him with increasingly widening eyes, he launched into the whole story of his time-travelling experience.

Meeting Terra and Roy, the destruction of the cities, the deaths of the Titans, the Justice League and then Batman's Titans, and then the Master of Time's appearance, the consequential visit to the destroyed Wayne Enterprises, his fight with Slade, the revealing of the seer to be Seth Elliott, the unmasking of the _real_ prophecy, the realisation that the Blood Diamond was the key to the Orb of Azarath, how Seth had used him and Slade and everything else of the history in between, including the realisation that Robin wasn't an "Avenger" of any sort and that the Teen Titans weren't "mortal gods", how he had almost died, how Raven had been brought to the future and how he had learned that the child was Seth's – and more to the point, how he managed to pull off the stunt of using Robin to impregnate Raven with _his_ child – and then how Seth had almost killed him again, Raven's destruction of him; Marcus' explaining of what was to be done concerning the baby, Robin's second fight with Slade and consequential killing of him; the conversation he had had with Raven, the journey home by the Clock of Eternity, Raven's sudden personality switch, the third fight with Slade, Robin's dream in which Jonathon had appeared, the finding of the spell, the séance with Jonathon, and then the entire spell itself and all of its implications, including the fact that he was going to do it tonight and would be grateful for their help…

By the time he was finished an entire hour had passed and Robin's throat was near-bleeding. He got up to get a glass of water and they all stared at his back, gobsmacked.

"You're serious?" Cyborg finally broke the awed silence.

"Deadly."

"It's all true?" Beast Boy asked.

"Every word." Robin sipped at his water, quenching his thirst, his back still to the table.

There was another bout of silence. And then—

"_You are a liar_!" Raven screamed, getting to her feet angrily. "And Azar damn you to hell if you think I am going to let you murder your child! _Our_ child!"

Robin whirled on her furiously, slamming his glass down so hard that it cracked.

"I am getting _sick_ of this!" He seethed. "You'd better snap out of this behaviour right now and be sensible or I'll have to strap you down in the sick bay to perform the spell!"

"No!" She squealed, backing away from him.

"Yes!" Robin snatched across and grasped her wrist hard. "Didn't you hear me? If the baby is born, you'll die and Seth will be resurrected! You wanna damn all the _world_ to hell, Raven, you go right ahead, because you'll die as a result of the birth and _you_ were the one who stopped him last time…"

"I WON'T _LET_ YOU!" Raven shrieked, wrenching her wrist away and running past them all out of the room.

"_RAVEN_!" Robin grabbed at his own hair in utter exasperation, and then went after her; pushing past Starfire, who had deliberately planted herself in his path.

Starfire's eyes narrowed as she watched him leave the kitchen.

Inside her, jealously boiled and began to bubble over; as green and flaming as her Tamaranean power.

"I can't believe Robin got so many more votes than us, Cy," Beast Boy said irritably as they too watched Robin leave the room.

"_I_ can't believe Robin and Raven… you know…" Cyborg countered.

"Yeah…" Beast Boy's voice was distant. "I wonder if she was good…"

Cyborg elbowed him.

"Don't talk about her like that," he hissed. "As for Robin… well, I guess he did a pretty good job, seeing how he managed to knock her up…"

Starfire stormed out of the room.

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged glances.

"Raven!"

Robin easily caught up to her, not having her extra weight to slow _him_ down, and caught her arm, whipping her around; and holding her as they stood in the middle of the Operations Center.

"No, _NO_!" She screamed, batting at him.

If she had _really_ wanted, she could have hurt him.

_Killed_ him.

But she didn't use her powers; just pounded at him, flailing in his grasp.

"Calm down!" He snapped, taking her other wrist and holding her still.

"No, I _won't_ listen to you!" She sobbed, wrenching at her wrists in his grip. "_I won't listen to your lies!_"

"Why would I _lie_ to you?" He asked in absolute exasperation.

"You don't want the baby!"

"It's going to _kill_ you, Raven!"

"No it isn't!" Raven wailed, succeeding in pulling one wrist away from him. "You're making it all up!"

"For petesakes, Raven, I'm _not_!" He yelled at her furiously. "I'm trying to _save_ you!"

"Let go! _I hate you_!"

She kicked him in the shin with her new kitten heels, twisted free and ran away across the room.

Cursing under his breath, Robin went after her.

He wasn't quick enough.

Something faintly red and purple pelted past him and too late he realised—

"Starfire, _no_!"

Inflamed with jealousy – and Tamaraneans are creatures of unbridled emotion – the alien princess barrelled right into Raven, who was almost at the door. The pregnant girl uttered a shrill shriek as Starfire knocked her to the floor and descended upon her.

"Starfire!" Furious, Robin leapt at her with a flying kick.

But Starfire was angry and jealous, and with that employed her inhuman strength, catching his ankle and easily flinging him over her head into the wall. Her murderous flaming gaze turned back on Raven again – who, instead of using her telekinesis to throw Starfire off her, was merely slapping upwards at her.

Starfire grabbed her hands.

And smirked.

And then, before she could finish warming up her eyes, she was torn off Raven by Cyborg and thrown to the floor. Before she could get up again, Robin straddled her, pinned her arms with his knees and swiftly found the pressure point at her shoulder he was looking for; applying a little weight from his fingers, she gave a little shudder and fell unconscious.

"Catfight-much?" Beast Boy quipped nervously, joining them as Robin got off the comatose Starfire.

"I'm guessing she doesn't believe your story about it not being yours either, then?" Cyborg commented warily.

"That's no excuse," Robin replied coldly, looking at the alien girl in disgust.

That was the first time she had ever truly frightened him.

As a member of the team, it was easy to forget that she was an alien. But it was true; she wasn't like them, not the same species. Tamaranean, not human. And as sweet and as pretty and as nice as Starfire was, she _wasn't_ human.

She was strong.

She was powerful.

She was _dangerous_.

"Take her to her room," Robin ordered, turning away from her. "I'll talk to her when she comes round."

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged glances again; surprised by the Boy Wonder's steely tone. It wasn't like him to be angry with his precious Starfire – who could normally never do no wrong.

But then again, he was right; her behaviour back there had been unacceptable.

Turning to Raven, Robin pulled her upright.

"Are you okay?" He asked warily.

She looked at him.

Blinked.

Her face had suddenly lost that big pretty smile and out-of-the-ordinary innocence.

She looked like…

…_Raven…_

"You let me come downstairs in a _dress_?" She asked pointedly, her gaze on Robin.

Robin stared at her. She was… _normal_… again.

Was that all she had needed all this time? A smack to the head?

She put out her hand and he helped her to her feet.

"Wait…" He couldn't stop staring at her. "You're… _you_… now?"

"Yes." She looked at Beast Boy and Cyborg, who were also staring at her, gobsmacked.

"H-how?" Cyborg stammered.

Raven casually held up her hand.

The ring was missing.

"It was the ring," she said mildly. "The ring was the cause of my less-than-ordinary behaviour…"

"Then why didn't you _say_ so?" Robin snapped angrily. "All this time I-"

"Oh, don't be stupid," Raven interrupted coldly. "There was nothing I could do about it. Seth Elliott cast a spell on it, which was triggered by the time fracture."

"So what happened to make you into such a Girl Scout?" Beast Boy demanded.

"That wasn't truly "me"," Raven explained in the jaded tone that was so typical of her – and one they had never been so glad to hear. "You and Cyborg will be more familiar with this, Beast Boy; the spell suppressed my true self while my personified emotion of Happiness was given free rein over my body."

Beast Boy and Cyborg's eyes widened in comprehension.

"Happiness…" Cyborg frowned. "The one in the pink robe, right?"

Raven nodded.

"This past week, you haven't been dealing with _me_. You've been dealing with Happiness. I have been "trapped" within my own body, knowing what is going on but not having any control over it. I knew it was the ring doing this, but I couldn't let anyone know. Only the removal of the ring would break the spell."

"But I _tried_ to take the ring off!" Robin said in exasperation. "I couldn't get it off your finger."

Raven shrugged.

"An enchantment, no doubt."

"So Robin _didn't_ give you that ring?" Cyborg asked faintly.

"No."

"Why did you say that _he_ did then?"

"_I_ didn't. Happiness did."

"_Why_?"

"I don't _know_," Raven replied wearily.

"Where is it now?" Beast Boy asked.

"Starfire pulled it off when she grabbed my hands and then Cyborg wrenched her backwards." Raven nodded at Starfire's unconscious form – the alien girl was draped in Cyborg's arms.

Beast Boy opened Starfire's hand and sure enough, the ring dropped from her limp fingers and hit the floor of the Operations Center.

"Maybe it's a strength thing?" The green shape-shifter asked, picking the ring up. "Star's the strongest out of all of us, physically; a lot stronger than Robin, anyway. You saw how she just threw him across the room with one hand…"

Robin nodded as Beast Boy handed him the ring.

"Yeah, I seriously couldn't get it off…"

"Here's one thing I ain't getting, Ray," Cyborg put in. "Robin said that you were there the whole time in the future, because that Seth dude brought you there with the intention of marrying you or whatever, right?"

Raven nodded.

"Well, from what BB and I saw inside your head all those months ago," the cybernetic teen went on, "all those emotions are a part of who you are. Why couldn't "Happiness" remember everything that had happened in the future? Before Star just knocked you down there like a bowling pin, you were hollerin' saying Robin was lying and making it all up, but you were there… and so Happiness, as a part of you, would have been there too."

"Yes." Raven nodded, impressed. "That's observant, Cyborg. However, you will remember that I suppress my emotions – the use of my powers requires it. Each of my emotions do not share all the same experiences. What I felt that night was fear and anger – even hatred. I did not feel happy, and so Happiness was oblivious of what had happened."

"But Happiness knew of everything _before_ that," Robin pointed out. "Uh, the baby, and… how… the baby was, um… _conceived_…"

"Because I was _happy_ then," Raven said quietly, a little pink tingeing her pale face.

There was a tense silence.

"So…" Cyborg cleared his throat. "You're… all for Robin's heebie-jeebie abortion tonight?"

Raven nodded.

"We can't allow it to live. My life aside…" She shook her head. "We can't give Seth the chance to be resurrected, and we _can't_ allow it to be born."

Robin pulled at her wrist.

"Come and look at this spell," he said, tugging at her. "Check I've done it right."

"Alright…"

Robin looked over his shoulder at Cyborg and Beast Boy as he left the room with Raven.

"Just leave her in her room," he said, scowling a little at the unconscious Starfire.

But then, in retrospect, if it hadn't been for Starfire…

…Raven would still be lost to them.

By attempting to murder Raven, Starfire had actually _saved_ her.

After such a crazy month, even the irony of _that_ was lost…

* * *

Before anyone rips into about the ring "suddenly" having magical powers that conveniently suppressed Raven's real self so Seth could PWN everyone from beyond the grave…

Well, incidentally, the ring HAS been in it for ages – like since Raven first showed up in the future; but more importantly…

…It's called a DEUS EX MACHINA, kids. It's what we idiot authors use when we write ourselves into a corner and then think "Oh… crap. That was bad.", so then you have to come up with some thing where a magical wizard appears from nowhere and gives the hero an equally-magical sword that just so happens to be made of the only metal that will kill the giant monster that's spent the rest of the book terrorizing everyone…

Deal with it.

Hey, at least a magical wizard didn't appear and remove the ring.

There is NOT long left to go now, AND Raven is back to her usual self! Yayz!

Next time (and I'm not even going to bother promising I'll update soon because… I would just be lying…)!

RR xXx


	38. By the Book

Updated especially for **Quinn and His Quill**, who scathingly reminded me not even half and hour ago that this was still rotting unfinished in cyberspace…

I am so sorry about updates on this. I really need someone to kick me over this, you know…

Thankyou to: **Kitty-Katz-Katz; TheFallenAngel67; dragonprincess1988; LoopyLouise123; Guardian of Azarath; Quinn and His Quill; Brendan Aurabolt; Amara-chan; Dancing through the Storm; dlsky; Me; The Fate of an Amaryllis; Azar's Curse; Narroch **and **Simmie!**

By the Book

"It looks pretty much fine to me," Raven said, leaning back in the chair at Robin's desk.

"What do you mean, "pretty much"?"

"Well, you've translated a little word wrong here and there, but-"

Robin handed her a pen.

"Fix them for me?"

Raven sighed and pulled the notebook towards her.

"You're a perfectionist, you know that?"

"Raven, this _has_ to be perfect…" The Boy Wonder ran a hand through his ebony hair. "We only have one chance at this. It took me so long to find the book we've left the spell to the last possible moment…"

"I know. I'm sorry." Raven sucked on the end of the pen. "This is my fault. If I hadn't… if Happiness hadn't been…" She trailed off and sighed. "You know what I mean. I could have found this spell in an hour, but instead you were left to do it all by yourself."

"Raven, it isn't your fault." He sat on the desk and she looked up at him. "Really, it isn't your fault. You couldn't help it… I'm just so glad you've finally snapped out of it."

"You can thank Starfire for that," Raven said softly, looking down at the notebook.

"Hmm. Yeah, _Starfire_…"

There was a surprising amount of venom in his voice.

"Robin, don't fall out with her over this," Raven warned, not looking up.

"She could have _killed_ you!" Robin snapped.

"I know." Raven didn't sound very affronted. "She _is_ dangerous when she's angry. We've always know that. You saw her when she first came to Earth…"

"That was _before_ we were her friends!"

"Robin, she's _jealous_," Raven said calmly.

"Of _what_?" Robin slid off the desk, spreading his arms to accentuate his inquiry. "Of _you_? Raven, you're carrying an evil demon child that is going to _kill_ you if we don't get rid of it before tonight! Don't tell me she's _jealous_ of _that_!"

Raven shook her head.

"She's not jealous of the fact that I am _pregnant_," she said patiently, crossing through a word and writing another one above it. "She's jealous of the fact that you and I have… well, had something of a relationship, and behind her back at that… I mean, not that I haven't shared… There _was_ that little slip-up a while back where Seth loosened his hold on you and you got your hands on her, but… Robin, she really likes you, and…"

"Don't make excuses for her!" Robin snapped. "I don't care _how_ much she likes me, and hey, yeah, maybe _I_ even like _her_, but I _don't_ want to hear excuses for her behaviour back there! It was uncalled for and she could have seriously hurt you."

Raven looked up and turned to him.

"You want me to tell you a little something about Starfire?" She asked drolly. "Something you might not realise?"

"What?"

"Take this from me; I have been in Starfire's body and have used her powers. Tamaranean energy is channelled by emotion – it is like mine, but in reverse. If I wish to levitate, I must suppress my emotions, clear my mind and focus; if Starfire wishes to fly, she must think of something joyful. Again, if I wish to move something with my mind, I must clear my mind and focus on it, let it become a part of me – while Starfire, to fire her starbolts, must feel something she calls "righteous fury"."

She noticed him tapping his foot impatiently and sighed.

"Look, what I'm saying is that Tamaraneans are… emotional beings, at best. They depend on being able to unleash their emotions to use their abilities. Starfire has been trained that way, and you will notice that she always says how she feels. It is her way to let everyone know if she is happy, or sad, or angry, and when she feels something strongly, she cannot contain it. What you saw today was jealousy, and blame me for making excuses for her if you will, Robin, but Starfire cannot help being that way. She could not control that jealousy – it overtook her completely, to the extent that she probably did not even know what she was doing…"

"So you don't mind that she was going to blast you with eye lasers?"

"I do mind." Raven went back to the notebook. "And I'm glad you and Cyborg stepped in. But I also _understand_ her…"

"And _I_ don't, is what you're saying?"

"Not as much as you _should_, as team leader…"

He relented and gave a weary little sigh.

"Guess we all still have a lot to learn about each other…"

"And every new thing we learn is something precious," Raven cited ominously.

"Where'd you hear that?"

Raven shrugged.

"Read it somewhere, probably…"

He leaned against the desk.

"You think I'm a lousy leader, Raven?"

"You do just fine…" She put the pen down and handed him the notebook back. "And if you decide that leading a superhero team isn't for you, I think you've got a bright future as a translator…"

She smiled at him as he took it.

"For a first attempt, that was excellent."

"Well, you wrote out the chart and gave me the books."

"You mean Happiness did."

"Why'd he pick Happiness, anyway?" Robin asked, referring to Seth. "I mean, if he wanted you to seem normal so we wouldn't get suspicious, why didn't he pick Sadness or something?"

"The primary feature of the ring was, in the rare event of his death, to protect the child. If left to my own devices, I would have destroyed it. Happiness would be the emotion that would contain my maternal instinct, and Happiness was very pleased at the thought of having a baby. So he chose Happiness because "she" would be the one emotion most likely to protest at the mention of an abortion. Because, to "her", a baby would be a joyful thing…"

"He really thought of everything, didn't he?"

"He was a smart guy," Raven agreed mildly. "Evil, slimy and arrogant, but a smart guy…"

"You think Jonathon would have stopped him if Seth hadn't killed him?"

Raven shrugged.

"I couldn't say." She looked at the book. "He came to you in a dream?"

"Uh-huh. And then I had some more questions, so I got hold of him through a séance."

"Ironic that he is more helpful now that he's dead," Raven muttered. "When he was alive, all he did was be a pest at meetings…"

"I couldn't have done this without him. I'd probably still be searching for that book…"

"On the other hand," Raven reminded him, "if you'd just broken the news to the others right at the start, Starfire might have wrenched the ring off a whole lot earlier…"

"True."

"Well…" Raven looked at all of his notes and charts and smiled. "You should be very proud of yourself. Considering you have no knowledge of magic, this is really excellent. I'm very impressed."

"Raven, like I had a choice. It was either do this or let you die."

"I know…" Her voice was soft now.

"Well, I have some stuff to get together and I have to practise and everything, so…"

Robin trailed off; he didn't really want her to leave, but…

"I know, I'll make myself scarce until you're ready…"

He heaved her out of the chair and helped her to the door of his room.

Starting out of the door, she turned back to him.

"Robin, I…"

"It's okay."

"I just…" She eventually looked down. "Thankyou… for doing this for me…"

"You know I wouldn't let you die, Raven…"

"I know, I-"

He put a finger to her lips.

"I'll see you later," he said quietly.

And he shut the door.

With a heavy sigh, Raven tottered over her own bedroom door; kitten heels and a heavily-pregnant bump were not a good combo.

Damn that Happiness…

Still, she knew that other maternity wear had been purchased, and planned to change as soon as she got into her room into something more comfortable and less…

…well, as Robin had said; she was wearing a freaking _cocktail dress_…

It was after she had shut her bedroom door that she felt a sudden staggering pain in her middle.

That she gave a little gasp as she felt something suddenly wet between her legs.

That she looked down in horror at the small puddle on the bedroom floor and realised that her waters had broken.

—

Once Raven was gone, Robin went to his closet and opened it, rooting out yet another cardboard box and carrying it over to his bed. Inside, carefully piled up and some items sealed into little plastic bags, were all of the things he would need for the spell tonight.

He had pilfered the lot from Raven's room.

At the bottom of the box, wrapped in a red silk cloth, was the Blade of Azar, a length of thin black velvet ribbon, and a black obsidian pentacle that he had found in a silver box in one of Raven's cupboards – she had five-pointed stars made of almost every material imaginable, including metal, crystal, paper, beads and various stones.

Before this – and perhaps ignorantly – he had always believed that the pentacle stood for Satanism; but now he knew that this was a stereotyped, and more to the point, _incorrect_, assumption. Each of the points extended towards each of the five elements needed and acknowledged in Wicca or Paganism. The topmost point extended to infinity above, and clockwise, the next pointed to the element of water, the next to fire, the next to earth and the last to air.

Each of these would also be represented within his casting circle.

In a little purple velvet bag on top of the red bundle was a tiny bottle of frankincense oil, and a few fragments of turquoise and black obsidian.

For his cleansing bath.

He could hardly wait.

Unwrapping a length of blue ribbon he had stolen from Starfire's crafts box, he took a pair of scissors and cut it into eight equal lengths; then tied them together and put them back into the box.

Getting up, Robin went back to his closet and pulled out once more that big crate of designer clothes Bruce had sent to him – only this time he did not require clothes that he felt would make him look less like Robin.

That would make him look different – so that he didn't resemble what he truly _was_.

A mask to cover a mask.

No, what he needed… was something _blue_.

Digging through it rather unceremoniously (in a mole-like frenzy), he located a Ralph Lauren pale blue button down shirt and pulled it out, inspecting it.

Perfect.

He shoved the box back into his closet and went to his desk, clutching the shirt; and sat down, tugging open one of the drawers and rummaging around until he found a blue permanent marker. Spreading the shirt out on the surface of his desk – presenting him with the back of it – he flipped open his notebook to the relevant page.

A page on which he had sketched four Wiccan runes.

Each of these needed to be carved onto four casting candles within his circle – but for now, he was putting them to use for something else.

True, he was no fashion designer – but, being a powerless mortal, he needed all the help he could get.

Across the back seam – shoulder to shoulder – he carefully drew, with the blue pen, each of the runes, in a single straight horizontal line.

The first was _Eohl_, which stood for protection itself; it resembled a capital "Y" with an extra line through the "v" shape, so that it in fact began to look more like the foot of a bird on a kid's drawing.

The second was _Daeg_, which represented hope and promise; it looked a little like a tiny hourglass turned on its side.

The third was _Sigel_, standing for victory; and resembling a sharp, stylised "S".

And the fourth and final rune was _Wyrd_, representing the inevitable; and the easiest the draw. The symbol for _Wyrd_ was, in essence, _nothing_ – and so it was represented by a rectangle with the corners rounded off.

The blessing of protection itself.

Hope and promise that the spell would work.

And when it did, there would be victory.

And the remembrance of the inevitable – that the world kept on turning, kept on living, kept on _breathing_.

To be perfectly honest, Robin was getting sick of this Wicca business already.

—

With a weary little groan, Starfire lifted her head and sat up. Her left shoulder ached a little and she vaguely remembered Robin above her, pressing down on a muscle somewhere—

And then nothing more.

The alien princess curled up miserably on her pink circular bed, hugging her knees and legs – in their long purple boots – to her chest.

She remembered everything _before_ that.

And she was deeply ashamed.

Somewhere within, a little flame of jealousy still burned; for yes, she was deeply hurt and angry that Robin—

That Raven—

She whined miserably under her breath. Robin had been stolen away from her without her even realising – before she had even had a chance to…

He knew how she felt, surely? And surely Raven…?

She closed her eyes and fought to crush her jealousy back down.

She _was_ jealous; of _course_ she was. She deeply liked Robin, and now… Raven had gotten there first.

And not only that, but she was _pregnant_ by him. Did it even truly _matter_ that – and _if_ – the child wasn't his? They had still made a baby together. And to _make_ a baby—

Starfire put her head in her hands, fighting against her wild and exuberant emotions. As much as she wanted to go completely crazy and rip her starbolts into everything in sight to relieve herself, she knew that she could not.

This wasn't Tamaran.

It wasn't acceptable.

She felt melded anger, pity and remorse in relation to Raven; angry at the other girl for stealing away the boy she liked, pity for her predicament (if she truly _was_ going to die unless the child was destroyed) and remorse for her _own_ behaviour.

She understood why Robin had been so angry with her. Attacking a friend and team-mate was _not_ acceptable.

This _wasn't_ Tamaran.

Feeling very ashamed of herself, Starfire decided to find Raven and apologise. If Raven didn't accept – because even Starfire had noticed that the telekinetic girl hadn't been acting quite right lately – then it didn't matter; Starfire had played _her_ part.

Too depressed to fly, Starfire slipped off her bed, left her bedroom and sloped down the corridor, her head bowed.

She hoped that she did not come into contact with any of the boys.

Lady Luck was playing in her favour; and Starfire reached Raven's room without having to deal with either Cyborg, Beast Boy or (especially) Robin.

She raised her hand to knock—

--And her sharp Tamaranean hearing picked up – very faint, and beyond the door – a groan of pain.

_Raven_.

Suddenly scared for her friend, Starfire elbowed the door, her alien strength making it buckle and pop open despite the fact that it was locked. Stepping into the dark bedroom, Starfire raised one fist, lighting up a starbolt as she looked around.

She quickly found Raven on the bed and stepped towards it; the pregnant empath was curled on her side, one hand grasped at her stomach.

Raven opened her eyes; and then they became wide and rather frightened.

She couldn't defend herself in this state.

"_Azar_…" She backed up against the headboard. "Starfire… not now, _please_…"

Starfire came right up to the foot of the bed and lowered her hand.

"Raven, I do not wish to attack you again," she said, her voice very small. "I wish to… apologise for my behaviour earlier. It was unnecessary and not how a friend should behave. I am very sorry."

Raven was taken aback; but managed a pained smile.

It was difficult to hide the contractions.

Truthfully, Raven was very frightened; she was in labour already and in severe pain, and although her empathic abilities were able to numb it considerably, she wasn't sure how long she could keep this up.

That, and the fact that it was only 1:15pm.

A long time, to say the least, until nightfall and the shining of the first star.

What if the child was born _before_ then?

Pushing the thought away, Raven hauled herself into a sitting position; she had changed her clothes, opting for a pair of soft white maternity jeans and a long-sleeved, high-necked royal blue top. Her cloak was thrown over the top of these garments.

The dress was thrown in a corner somewhere, along with those stupid kitten heels.

"It's alright," Raven sighed in her jaded tone. "It wasn't pleasant, but I _understand_, Starfire. I know how your powers work. I know you… couldn't really _help_ it…"

"I am still most terribly sorry," Starfire pressed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I am most dreadfully ashamed of myself…"

"Well…" Raven grimaced and shifted. "…I'm sorry too."

"For what, Raven?"

"For… Robin… I know how much… you like him…"

Starfire looked away.

"Well, he has you, and…"

Raven gave a little laugh.

"Starfire, Robin doesn't love _me_…"

Starfire looked up again sharply.

"He… does not?"

Raven shook her head.

"Weren't you listening this morning? The child I carry isn't Robin's – it's Seth Elliott's, and he used Robin to impregnate me. And to do so, he had to fabricate a bond between us – Robin and I _thought_ that what we felt was love. But it wasn't. It _never_ was. It was him forcing us all along. Robin and I love each other… as very close friends. Nothing more."

Starfire looked down at her lap.

"I did listen. I just… did not believe it…"

"Starfire…" Raven leaned her head back. "I know it's difficult to understand. But Seth Elliott… he was something else. He manipulated everyone – _all_ of us. Robin, myself, Slade, the entire Azarathian Senate. No-one had any choice in any of the matters he fabricated. Robin has always had feelings for you, Starfire; but Seth never allowed him to feel them. Seth wanted him to love me, and he only wanted him to love me so that I would trust him to the extent that I would be relaxed enough to give him a chance to make me pregnant with Seth's child. All along… that was all he _wanted_."

"Robin is not angered by that?"

"Of course he's angry. He's _furious_. Why do think he is working so hard to destroy Seth's child?"

"For _you_."

"Partly." Raven shrugged. "But because he would never let a friend and team-mate die, Starfire. Not because he's _in love_ with me."

"You are lucky to have shared so much with him…"

Raven raised her eyebrows, looking down at her swollen stomach.

"There are some things I would rather not have experienced with him… This entire ordeal has brought us much closer together, but I would not say that the _majority_ of it is happy memories…"

"Do you think…?"

Raven smiled.

"I can't read the future, Starfire. You'll just have to wait and see…"

Starfire gave a little smile of her own.

"Perhaps…"

Raven shifted again uncomfortably.

"Actually, Starfire, I suppose I should _thank_ you for attacking me…"

Starfire blinked and looked up in surprise.

"Why is that, Raven?"

"You pulled off the ring." Raven held up her hand to accentuate her point. "And that was what was making me act so… _not_ like me…"

When Starfire only served to look confused, Raven quickly explained the implications of the ring; focusing on the words to take her mind away from the agony she felt.

"So my attacking you was actually a _good_ thing?"

"In this case, yes…"

"Oh…" Starfire gave a sheepish little smile. "Glad I was… able to help…"

Raven gave a little nod; and then gasped and doubled over, groaning again.

Starfire leapt to her feet.

"Raven!" She cried. "You are in pain!"

Raven straightened up.

"In labour, more precisely…" she muttered.

Starfire spun on her heel and made for the door.

"I am going to get Robin!"

"No!"

Raven concentrated and slammed the door shut with her telekinesis, stopping Starfire in her tracks – even though she could get out if she wanted.

She had certainly gotten _in_.

"You mustn't tell Robin," Raven ordered as Starfire turned back to her.

"But you are in pain. The child is to be born soon – and is Robin not to _stop_ that from happening?"

Raven shook her head, grimacing again.

"Not yet. It isn't time…"

"But what if-?"

"_No_, Starfire!" Raven patted the bed. "Please, just come and sit down again. There is nothing you can do. The spell cannot be done until after the light of the first star tonight. Please, don't tell Robin that I am in labour. It will panic him and he will rush, and probably mess up."

Starfire sat again, looking at her friend in concern.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Raven? Anything that I might get for you?"

Raven actually smiled weakly.

"Well, seeing as you asked… a cup of herbal tea would be nice…"

* * *

He was thankful that it was October; with its long dark nights.

At 5:30pm, it was already dark.

Lying in his candlelit cleansing bath, Robin was very bored. It didn't feel special at all; the scent of frankincense was heavy and overpowering and the crystals scattered at the bottom of the tub were digging into him.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander; going from the spell to the recent events induced by Seth Elliott to questioning if the Justice League had rounded up all of the escaped criminals from Arkham Asylum yet to wondering if Luke Perry would ever show up on any other TV channel but Fox.

When he had lain there for as long as he could stand – about three-quarters of an hour, at most – he got out, towelled off and then wrapped the towel around his waist, blew out the candles and put on the light. Fishing out the crystals, he washed them off in the sink and drained the bath. Then, wrapping the crystals in one of the hand towels, he left the bathroom and went back to his room. He took the blue pen from his desk and, sitting on the bed, drew in a vertical line up the length of the underside of each forearm – from his wrist to the crook of his elbow – the four runes; _Wyrd_, _Eohl_, _Sigel_ and _Daeg_. Then he took the lengths of blue ribbon and tied them up his forearms, across the gaps between each rune – four on each arm. Taking up the pen again, he drew, on the palm of each hand, a "3"; for 3, he had learned, was the magical number of Wicca. He pulled on his green pants and utility belt and boots, but in place of his shirt and cape he put on the customised blue Ralph Lauren button-down, loosely buttoning four of the fastenings and leaving it untucked. Towel-drying his hair, he ran a little gel through it and then pulled out his communicator (a new one) and radioed Cyborg, who was standing up on the roof on a sharp lookout for the first star.

"Cy? Anything yet?"

"Uh-uh. Can't be long now, though. It's completely dark. Maybe you should go down and start setting up."

"Alright. Call me when you see it."

"Will do."

The comm. line was cut off and Robin put the device back in his belt, picking up his cardboard box and leaving his room.

They had decided that the Operations Center would be the best place to perform the spell; right in front of the huge window overlooking the bay, so Robin headed down that way. Beast Boy was on the couch button-mashing on _Super Ninja Fury_, but looked up when Robin entered the room.

"Is it time?" The shape-shifter's green eyes glittered with excitement.

"Not quite yet. Cy's gonna call in when that star shows up."

Beast Boy turned off the Gamestation as Robin passed him, restoring the TV screen back to the window.

"Can I help?" He pleaded, hovering over the Boy Wonder as he knelt down and began to take things out of the box.

"Yeah, just let me get it all out…"

"Cool!" Beast Boy threw himself down next to Robin. "This is gonna be like… _Harry Potter_!"

Robin raised his head, looking at him for a long time; eventually Beast Boy gave a nervous little laugh.

"Or, uh, _not_…"

"Beast Boy, please, this is_ serious_…"

He handed the shape-shifter a plain blue (for protection, _yada yada…_) candle and a birdarang from his belt; then pulled out his notebook, flipped it open to the runes page and pointed to _Sigel_.

"Carve that into that candle, please."

"Okay…" Beast Boy sat cross-legged and began to cut into the candle with the sharp wing of the weapon, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Meanwhile, Robin began to set up his working circle, his heart thudding in his chest; he pushed the coffee table aside, being presented with a large empty space of red carpet right in front of the window, and then got together his equipment. Unwrapping the Blade of Azar and the stone pentacle, he spread the red piece of silk out on the floor as an altar cloth, then placed the knife and the star on it, side by side. In between he laid the length of thin velvet ribbon, and to the side a silver candle snuff and a sheet of paper on which he had written out the entire spell in case he forgot it. Around the rectangular cloth, on a wide circumference to create a circle – and at the points of a compass – he set four items to represent each of the elements he would need to call upon within his spell.

At the north he placed a tiny bonsai tree he had swiped from Raven's windowsill to represent to element of earth.

At the east he placed a stick of sandalwood and cinnamon incense, lighting it, to represent the element of air.

At the south he placed a long red candle, which he left unlit, to represent the element of fire.

At the west he placed a small silver dish of water to represent the element of water.

Moving back to his "altar", he placed a thick white church candle to the left of it, and a thick black one to the right; to represent the sun and the moon – the masculine and feminine elements of Wiccan practices.

Before he could go any further, the doors opened and Cyborg came in.

"It's out," the cybernetic teen announced, thumbing upwards at the ceiling. "Just spotted it."

Robin nodded.

"Cool."

Cyborg came over and knelt down.

"Anything I can do?"

"Help Beast Boy carve those symbols into the candles. One on each."

"Will do."

Robin handed him a birdarang and Cyborg got to work on _Daeg_; Beast Boy had already done _Sigel_ and _Eohl_.

"Anything else I can do, Robin?" Beast Boy asked, his ears twitching excitedly.

"Go up and get Raven for me."

Beast Boy saluted, bounded to his feet and left the room.

Then he came back.

"Should I get Starfire too?" He asked.

Robin shook his head.

"No. I can't deal with her right now…"

Beast Boy nodded and left again.

"Meant to say, Robbie," Cyborg commented lightly, "you're lookin' sharp."

Robin snorted.

"Bruce would _kill_ me for doing this to this shirt."

"Expensive?"

"Ralph Lauren."

"_Ouch_." Cyborg winced. "Jeez, burn the evidence when you're done."

"I think he'd be even angrier if I burned it."

Cyborg shrugged.

"Ah, how's he gonna know, anyway?"

"_I wouldn't wonder_," Robin muttered, more to himself. "Those candles done yet?"

"Sure." Cyborg finished _Wyrd_ and handed all four over.

Robin set them up at each quarter, beside the objects representing the elements; _Eohl_ at the north, _Sigel_ at the east, _Wyrd_ at the south and _Daeg_ at the west.

Then he knelt in the middle of the circle, bowed his head, and went very quiet.

"Hey, you meditating?" Cyborg asked sharply.

"_Sshh_."

"_Are_ you?"

"I'm _trying_ to. Now shut up; I have to do this or I'll screw up."

Cyborg obeyed and was quiet.

For a few moments.

"Robin?"

Robin didn't answer; although his brow furrowed as he tried harder to concentrate.

"_Robin_!"

"_What_?" Robin hissed through gritted teeth.

"You… really think this is going to work?"

Silence.

And then Robin looked up again.

"It has to work, Cy," he said softly. He clenched his fists on his knees and looked out of the window at the dark sky – with one star (now visible through the glass) glinting like a diamond on a sheet of black velvet.

"It just _has_ to."

* * *

Oh, god, I was _so_ into the Robin-angst when I wrote this… O.o

All the magic stuff is real. Blue for protection, the symbols are all real Wicca symbols, and NSEW stuff… Ugh, I mean, I just read up on stuff and then smashed it all together in a spell I made up, but the actual components of it are real…

Rawr…

I'll update sooner this time, I swear to God!


	39. Do As You Will

Okay, I promised a quicker update, and here it is! Yay!

Ah, and I used to update like once a week… Those were the days… O.o

Still, we are _very nearly there!_ Probably only about five more chapters after this, at the _most_…

Yay! And thankyou all for being so patient… _Remember the Titans_ alone, in its entirety, is something close to 250,000 words, so you all deserve some kind of award for reading _Asylum_, _Black Magic_, this and still being here…

Thankyou to: **Amara-chan **(yes! I am alive! It was questionable for a while, I admit…); **Guardian of Azarath **(I have to say, considering how much you despise cliffhangers, it amazes me that you're still reading this… :D); **Me **(you think something will go wrong? Maybe, maybe not…); **DragonPrincess1988 **(there's some more Robin/Cyborg interaction in this chapter too!); **LoopyLouise123 **(bloody hell, just by doing the research for this fic I know _I_ would get sick of Wicca pretty quickly…);** Someone **(why does it take so long if it's already written? I don't have an intelligent or plausible answer/excuse for that question, I'm afraid…); **Quinn and His Quill **(got your popcorn and cola ready, Quinny-Boy:D); **dlsky **(thanks for being so patient and waiting around!); **Kitty-Katz-Katz **(ha ha ha, it's just no fun if Robin doesn't have anything to panic about…); **TheFallenAngel67 **(oh, it's not really StarfirexRobin – its just that this fic is canon, so the RobinxRaven-ness goes away and the RobinxStarfire-ness lingers…); **Narroch **(I already bitched to you about the medical explanations, you freak, so, like, whatevs…); and **Simmie **(yay, so now you know all about Wicca… But it won't help with your A Levels…)!

You have all been very patient; and so, without further ado, let's kick that demon-parasite-baby's ass…

Do As You Will

"Please do not despair, Raven," Starfire pleaded, patting a cold flannel on her friend's forehead. "It is dark outside. Surely the star—"

"_Why don't we have any epidurals?_" Raven screamed, interrupting her.

"Epidurals?" Starfire was distraught at seeing the usually cool and calm empath in such pain and distress. "Raven, I do not understand what that word means. Perhaps if you were to explain it to me, I might be able to fetch it for you?"

"_Drugs_," Raven moaned. "Painkillers…"

"Epidurals are painkillers?"

"Uh-huh…" Raven drew a deep ragged breath and squeezed on Starfire's hand. "Major-league… ones… for child-birth…"

"Raven, I am—"

She was cut off again as Raven gave another stifled scream of pain; she winced at it. She hated to see her in such agony; it truly frightened her. Even Raven's self-healing powers could not numb the pain now that the contractions were so constant and extreme.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, nulled by her pain, she prayed to Azar that the star was out, and that Robin knew, and that he was ready to do the spell, and that he didn't make a mistake.

Seth's child seemed determined to be born – the agony was unbearable, but despite that, she wasn't giving _it_ an easy time either, by keeping on her underwear and jeans, the latter buttoned and zipped. She had been walking up and down earlier with Starfire's help, but the pain was too much for that now.

All she could do was lie on her bed and scream and pray, squeezing Starfire's hand every time she felt a contraction. Starfire's superhuman strength enabled her to serve this duty without feeling very much pain, and Raven was very grateful for her hand.

Another wail of suffering echoed around the room – bouncing off Raven's various creepy Azarathian décor and ornaments – and then the door suddenly opened.

Beast Boy peeked around the edge of it, his green eyes wide at the sound of Raven's scream.

"Beast Boy!" Starfire got up and tried to approach him, but Raven wouldn't give up her hand, so instead she beckoned him over.

The little green shape-shifter scuttled over to the bed, suddenly looking very scared rather than excited.

"Star? You aren't attacking her, are you?"

Starfire whirled on him, her eyes flaming jade.

"I am doing no such thing!" She cried angrily. "Raven is in labour. The spell must be performed quickly, Beast Boy!"

"Labour?" Beast Boy repeated weakly; he glanced at Raven as the pregnant girl curled up, groaning deeply.

"The star is out, Beast Boy?" Starfire pressed, her eyes fading back to normal.

Beast Boy nodded.

"Robin's setting up downstairs. He sent me up to get Raven."

They both looked worriedly at Raven.

"Beast Boy, I am most doubtful that she can walk…"

Beast Boy pulled out his communicator and dialled Robin's. However, it was Cyborg who answered.

"B? Yo, what are you doing? Robin said to get down here _now_!" The half-robot snapped.

"Cy, it's Raven," Beast Boy said frantically. "She's in labour. Really bad, I mean. I don't think she can get up."

Cyborg swore under his breath and Beast Boy heard Robin ask something in the background.

"Tell Robin to come do the spell up here," Beast Boy said once he heard silence.

"Hang on…" Cyborg turned his mouth from the earpiece and Beast Boy heard him saying something incomprehensible to Robin, and then Robin's reply.

Then Cyborg was back.

"Robin just yelled at me that he's already cast the circle and can't move it."

"Why not?"

"Something about sacred space and evil vibes, I dunno what he was talking about…"

Robin said something else in the background, and Beast Boy strained to hear it.

"Okay, BB, sit tight," Cyborg said, talking over Robin. "Robin just told me to come up and get her."

"But Starfire could-"

Cyborg was gone, and so was the connection.

Beast Boy shrugged and flipped his comm. closed.

"Gotta wait for Cy…"

Starfire frowned worriedly, helping Raven to sit up.

"Beast Boy, do you think this spell is capable of destroying the child and saving Raven's life?"

Beast Boy shrugged hopelessly, his ears flat.

"I couldn't say, Star. It looks like pretty powerful stuff to me…"

"But Robin has never done any magic before…"

Beast Boy gave a miserable little shiver and said nothing. It was something that was on all of their minds, including Robin's own; he was no expert on magic at all. He had never done it before, save for the séance.

What if he _did_ mess it up? Then the knife would kill Raven too. But if he didn't do it, then Raven would die in childbirth.

The only way for her to live was for him to perform it exactly right.

And they all knew – and did not deny – that there _was_ a possibility that he _wouldn't_.

—

"It… must be done…" Raven groaned, clutching at Starfire's shoulder.

"But what if it goes wrong?" Beast Boy asked, his ears twitching. "What if he doesn't enchant the knife properly and it _kills_ you, Raven?"

"We have… no other option…" Raven gasped. "If he doesn't… do the spell… I will die anyway…" She took a deep breath. "And if I am… to die today, I would rather… be killed by the knife and take Seth's… wretched bastard child with me… than to die in childbirth as Seth wants… so that he will be restored to life…"

"Do you really think Robin can do this, Raven?" Beast Boy asked softly.

"He has worked… very hard. I believe in him… I believe that he will… _prevail_…"

Prevail in what she did not say; but doubtless she meant that either way, he would destroy Seth Elliott's child.

Raven's door opened a little more and then Cyborg was in the room. He glanced at the stricken Raven, gave a cool little nod to Starfire – on seeing that she wasn't foaming at the mouth with jealousy – and then thumbed at the door to Beast Boy.

"You and Star go on down. I'll bring Raven now."

The shape-shifter and the Tamaranean girl left the room in silence, wincing in empathy at Raven's groans of pain as Cyborg picked her up.

It would all be over soon.

One way or another.

—

Standing at the window with his arms folded, Robin looked out at the night sky. There were a few stars out now, all twinkling like tiny diamonds.

He sighed heavily and held up his forearms to look at them – he was met with four runes and four pieces of ribbon on each, a 3 on each of his palms.

His heart was hammering in his ribcage and his stomach felt as though it had been tied into a string of knots. He closed his eyes and lowered his arms to his sides, taking another deep breath.

He didn't really know what he was doing. He was terrified and didn't want to do it. He would never forgive himself if he botched the spell and _killed_ Raven…

But if he didn't _try_, he was sentencing her to death anyway.

And the situation had suddenly become a lot more urgent – Beast Boy had called down from Raven's room to report that she couldn't come down because she was in too much pain.

Because she was in labour.

The child would be born today, according to Jonathon – and it was twenty to seven now. That gave them just over five hours until midnight.

Not very much time at all – but hopefully long _enough_.

In the reflection of the window he saw the doors open and Beast Boy and Starfire enter, followed by Cyborg carrying Raven, who was curled up and crying with the pain she was in.

He allowed the fresh shudder of terror to rip its way right through him before he turned to them, his face set and serious. His cold gaze flickered to Starfire briefly – Beast Boy caught it and waved his hand.

"She's cool, Robbie," he said, his voice a little squeaky. "They've made up…"

Robin raised his eyebrows and said nothing on the subject. Instead, he turned his attention on Cyborg and pointed to the circle.

"Lie her down on the floor beyond the north of the circle," he instructed.

Cyborg blinked at the circle.

"Which is north?"

"The one with the plant at it."

"Should we maybe have some music or something?" Beast Boy asked as Cyborg complied.

"Like _what_?" Robin barbed.

Beast Boy shrugged nervously.

"Like maybe some scary New Age stuff, or… Cyborg's got that cool Motown album, _And The Beat Goes On_…"

"_Motown_?" Robin snapped. "_Jesus_, Beast Boy…"

Saying nothing more to the shot-down shape-shifter, Robin went to the couch and pulled off two cushions, then beckoned to Starfire and Beast Boy. Crossing to Raven as Cyborg laid her on the floor, still groaning, Robin knelt and put one pillow under her head and the other under the small of her back to support the weight of her swollen stomach.

Raven opened her eyes and looked up at him, biting her lip against a scream.

"Hey," he said softly. "How're you doing?"

She smiled weakly; then groaned.

"Not bad…" Another moan. "I could… use some… drugs, though…"

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

"You won't need them…"

Raven offered him another agonised smile on seeing his rune-adorned arms and the "3" on each hand.

"_Thankyou_…"

His own smile faded somewhat.

"For doing _this_, Raven?" He snorted. "_I'm_ the one that got you into this mess. It's the least I can do…"

He recoiled a little as he saw one of those jerking little tics against the smooth skin of her swollen stomach, but she didn't seem to either notice or hear him and he stood up, thumbing at her to the other three.

"Cyborg and Beast Boy, I want you to hold her arms to stop her from squirming around."

They nodded and knelt next to her, holding her arms gently to keep her still as she writhed and groaned.

"Robin, you think maybe we should check how far dilated she is or loosen her jeans anything?" Cyborg asked, biting his bottom lip worriedly. "'Cause it looks like she's about to give birth, if you ask me…"

"And _help_ it?" Robin spat, getting thoroughly irritated now. "No, leave her the way she is. And I'll tell you now, if she just _happens_ to give birth to it halfway through the spell, I will _personally_ push it back in and stick the knife through it!"

Robin turned away abruptly as Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged glances; Cyborg mouthed "Stressed out" and Beast Boy rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, Robin came face-to-face with Starfire.

"Robin? Is there not something you might require me to do?" She asked, her voice near-pleading.

Robin again regarded her rather coldly and she looked away dejectedly.

"Turn out the lights when I've the lit the candles in the circle," he said finally, walking past her to the circle.

Starfire gave a little nod and obediently flew over to the lights, her hand on the switch ready to turn them off.

Robin stood for a moment outside the south of the circle, breathing deeply and calming himself down. Then he stepped into it and knelt before the red silk altar cloth, taking a gold Zippo lighter (with _B.W_ engraved on it) from his belt. For a moment or two he studied the paper, reminding himself yet again, and then…

"The circle is about to be cast and the temple erected…"

His voice shook a little with nerves, but he spoke it clearly over Raven's groans. He flicked on the lighter and lit first the white feminine candle, then the black masculine one, and finally the red candle at the south of the circle. Looking over at Starfire, he gave a little nod and she turned out the lights, plunging the Operations Center into a subtle candle-lit darkness, infected with the sweet scent of cinnamon and sandalwood incense.

Starfire came over and knelt beside Cyborg, putting her fingers to Raven's forehead as the pregnant girl groaned softly.

"_Go for it_,_ Robbie_," Beast Boy whispered so quietly no-one but Cyborg and Starfire heard.

Taking another breath, Robin began to speak again, lighting the east candle with a slightly-shaking hand;

"May the Watchtower of the East be blessed with light and _air_ to illuminate this sacred temple and bring it life."

He moved on to the south candle and spoke again;

"May the Watchtower of the South be blessed with light and _fire_ to illuminate this sacred temple and bring it warmth."

A flame flickered to life on the west candle;

"May the Watchtower of the West be blessed with light and _water_ to illuminate this sacred temple and wash it clean."

And finally, a tiny flame was aglow on the north candle;

"May the Watchtower of the North be blessed with light and _earth_ to illuminate this sacred temple and bring it strength."

Snapping the lighter shut and putting it away, Robin bowed his head and concentrated on centring himself. He winced as he heard another low, agonised moan from Raven; and then looked up at her, aghast to see that there was blood staining her white jeans between her legs and that the foul creature within her – that which was _killing_ her – was really writhing within her womb as it struggled to push out of her.

Time was running out, indeed…

He dipped his head again and lifted the Blade of Azar, holding it loosely with both his hands resting on the altar cloth. The light from the candles glowed on his arms and seemed to make the runes and the ribbons radiate a magical aura of their own.

It gave him a little more confidence and he took a deep breath; he could _do_ this.

What did they have to lose if he _couldn't_?

_Only Raven…_

Pushing the unwelcome avowal away, he again began to speak, his voice as confident as he could make it considering how scared he was;

"Alight the candles, let them burn,

And from the flames this charm we learn;

Elements I call, be healing and pure,

May my words protect for sure.

Fire, water, air and earth—

Prevent this most unholy birth.

Eohl, Daeg, Sigel and Wyrd—

Combine, I pray, in that magic third;

Sacred magic, ancient three,

With faith and blood I bind to thee—

And thrice around the circle's bound

Sink all evil to the ground;

For within the shadows, evils hides,

Savours poison; time it bides.

With this power I shall be strong,

Banish all that is corrupt and wrong.

This blade I bless and herefore say

It shall destroy this thing, send it away.

Frankincense, eight, Eohl and blue;

These charms lend to what I do—

I call on thee, and call you still;

Ancient magic, I pray… do as you will…"

As he spoke, his voice low and becoming more confident and less shaky, the runes on the four candles that Beast Boy and Cyborg had carved began to glow blue, as though tiny neon signs attached to the pale blue wax.

And as the words "Do as you will" left his lips, tiny blue beams shot from each of the glowing runes, quartering the circle – the centre of which being the Blade of Azar in Robin's hand.

As though in response, Raven gave a sharp cry of pain and Starfire gave a little gasp.

"_Dude_," Beast Boy whispered, prodding Cyborg and nodding at the knife.

Cyborg nodded in reply, speechless as the four runes began to fade from the candles as though being melted away; and then manifested themselves in a vertical line down the blade of the knife.

"It is _working_," Starfire murmured excitedly.

His senses tingling, Robin lifted the knife, took another quick look at his sheet of paper; and then tightened his grip on it and plunged it downwards, straight through the pentagon-shaped gap in the middle of the stone pentacle, piercing both the red silk cloth and the carpet underneath.

The flames on all of the candles in the circle suddenly glowed sapphire, casting all five Titans into a wash of eerie blue light; and the runes began to appear on each of the point of the pentacle too, only the topmost point staying plain to represent the nothingness of infinity.

Pulling the knife out again and putting it aside, and then taking up the length of black velvet ribbon, Robin threaded it through the top point of the black obsidian star and lifted it up. Picking up the glowing knife in the other hand, Robin stood up and silently left the circle.

Too focused now to feel guilty, he pushed Raven's legs apart and knelt between them; she was in so much pain she hardly noticed, groaning and crying.

There was a lot of blood on her now.

Ignoring it, Robin tied the black ribbon around her neck, laying the glowing pentacle on her collarbone. As soon as it touched her, the rune _Eohl_ – that of protection – appeared on her forehead over the jewel at her ashma chakra.

And again, as though in response – although it was just a coincidence – Raven sat partway up and uttered a horrific sound that was halfway between a scream and a gasp.

The child within her thrashed wildly; as though it _knew_…

"_Azar_…" Raven groaned as Cyborg gently pushed her back down. "_Please… h-help_…"

"May X'hal too lend you her protection, Raven," Starfire murmured.

Raven gave life to another short, ragged scream, bringing up her knees and resting her feet flat on the floor.

"Robin, _do_ it!" Cyborg cried.

Robin gave a grim little nod and held the knife in both hands above his head as though about to sacrifice her.

_But __**she**__would not die_.

Only her child. Her wretched, evil, bastard child.

_His_ child.

Without a sound, Robin brought the knife down with a speed and accuracy born of his prowess with the Bo staff.

The blade pierced her round abdomen and plunged all the way in, right up to the hilt.

Blood spattered up Robin's arms and front and face; again, as when he shot the Slade of that _other_ time.

Starfire gasped audibly.

Raven's eyes snapped wide open; and for a moment or two she was very quiet, only staring at Robin with those wide violet eyes.

And then she screamed bloody murder.

The entire knife was enveloped in a blue light; and then slowly changed to purple, and then blood red.

Still Robin held it there, even though Raven thrashed around, and even though it was beginning to burn his hands.

Still holding her, Beast Boy uttered a disgusted little groan and looked away.

Because now, from Raven's wound – although it was plugged with the Blade of Azar – a viscous black liquid, resembling tar, was overflowing and dripping from deep within her.

Tears running down his face from the pain of the knife, Robin still held it; he could feel it searing and burning his skin, but couldn't let go.

Not yet.

The tar-like substance continued to bubble over and pour down the sides of her swollen belly as she screamed; and then a blue glow spread from the pentacle and completely enveloped her…

Her scream died; and with it, so did the light. It faded away to reveal Raven lying on her back, completely still and silent but for her breathing.

Her stomach was completely flat; although the knife was still inside her and the black sludge was all over and around her.

The knife was no longer red; although the runes still adorned the blade, which he saw he slowly pulled it back out of her. As soon as it was out of her, Raven – unconscious – uttered a tiny sigh and her body, rigid as a board, lifted a few centimetres from the carpet and began to float there.

Healing herself.

The glowing _Eohl_ over her gem faded away, and so did the runes on the pentacle and the knife.

Despite being elated, Robin knew he couldn't celebrate quite yet; there was still that matter of closing the circle, which was very important even though the spell had been done and had worked.

Standing again, Robin quietly moved back to his workspace within the circle and set the pentacle – which he had taken from Raven's neck – and the Blade of Azar back down on the altar cloth. He knelt in silence for a moment or two, his dark head dipped low. After a moment;

"The temple will now be closed…"

Then he took up the silver candle snuff in his stinging hands and began to put out the candles, on which the carved runes were no more – the wax surfaces were simply smooth, as though nothing had ever been engraved there.

"May the Watchtower of the East, element of _air_, take for your use any powers that have not been used."

He placed the snuff over the south candle;

"May the Watchtower of the South, element of _fire_, take for your use any powers that have not been used."

Extinguished the west candle;

"May the Watchtower of the West, element of _water_, take for your use any powers that have not been used."

And finally, he put out the north candle;

"May the Watchtower of the North, element of _earth_, take for your use any powers that have not been used."

Taking a deep breath, he even smiled a little as he uttered the very last words of the spell;

"…So mote it be…"

He put out the red candle and finally the white and black ones.

And then there was darkness.

After a few moments, Starfire piped up;

"May I put the lights on now?"

"Yeah," Robin replied. "It's all done."

Starfire flew over and flipped on the lights as Robin stood up, looking at his hands; there were raw red burns across his palms.

They were agony.

But he smiled.

And then he let out a whoop of victory as though he had just scored the winning run at a baseball game.

"Robin, you have succeeded!" Starfire cried joyfully. "Raven has been saved!"

"Aw, you da man!" Cyborg cheered as Starfire gathered the four of them into a tight group hug.

"_Now_ can we put on Motown?" Beast Boy asked, quite seriously.

Robin grinned.

"BB, you can do whatever the hell you want…"

Beast Boy punched the air as Starfire released them all, hugging Robin a little longer than she did everyone else.

"Robin, I am deeply sorry for the way I behaved this morning," she whispered in his ear, her voice a little desperate.

"I know…" Robin gave her a tight squeeze back and then released her, turning to look at Raven.

"Someone should really clean her up," he muttered.

"Hey, you're the one who made the mess," Beast Boy pointed out, pointing at the black sludge.

_In more ways than one_, Robin agreed.

But he held up his burnt hands, smirking.

"Sorry, BB, but I have problems of my own right now…"

Beast Boy looked put out and Cyborg uttered a weary groan, crouching to lift Raven up.

"I'll take her to her room and get a mop…"

"She will be alright?" Starfire asked as Cyborg left the Operations Center, muttering under his breath.

Robin nodded.

"Yeah, she's just healing herself. If the spell hadn't worked she'd be dead…"

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, using it to wipe the blood from his face and arms.

"So the Teen Titans will exist to fight another day?" Beast Boy solicited as Robin crossed to the window to look out at the now star-filled sky, his shirt clutched in his hands; Starfire close at his heels.

"Of course…" Robin looked over his shoulder at the green changeling, folding up the bloody customised Ralph Lauren shirt. "And you know why?"

"Why?" Beast Boy asked, joining them.

Robin smirked.

"Because, Beast Boy, _the beat goes on_…"

He turned the smirk on Beast Boy as Starfire gave a little giggle.

Beast Boy grinned, not quite sure if he was in on the joke or if he _was_ the joke.

* * *

_Dressed in a white gown with a matching cloak, Raven lay fast asleep and content in his arms._

_She was beautiful. Perfect._

_And she wasn't pregnant._

_Together they lay on the thick lush grass of the tiny island on which all this had started; on which they had made passionate, desperate, __**controlled**__ love._

_Looking up at the clear star-filled sky of Azarath, adorned by its twin moons, Metrion and Zinthos._

_Or rather, __**had**__ been, until Raven fell fast asleep with her head on his chest._

_Robin lay on his back, one arm draped over her; a peach in his other hand, of which he had taken a bite._

"_Hey!"_

_Jonathon Vaughan cheerfully appeared from nowhere and flopped down on the grass beside him._

_Robin sat up and looked at him boredly._

"_Is this it now? Are you ever gonna leave me alone, or do I have to call Ghostbusters?"_

_Jonathon seemed insulted._

"_And after all I do for you…"_

"_You know what I mean."_

"_Yeah." Jonathon grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not going to haunt you for the rest of your life. I think I'll have more fun haunting Marcus…"_

"_What are you here for this time?"_

"_To congratulate you, of course!" Jonathon was surprised. "Hello? Remember that whole thing with the magic spell and saving Raven's life and everything?"_

_Robin smiled and gave a little shrug._

"_C'mon, you know I had a lot of help… mostly from you."_

"_But __**you**__ translated that spell. __**You**__ perfected it and performed it and saved her. __**I**__ didn't do any of that, and neither did Raven, and neither did your other friends. __**You**__ did."_

"_Uh-huh. And I __**won't**__ be doing it again in a hurry, believe me…"_

_Jonathon gave another shrug._

"_Magic isn't for everyone."_

"_I guess I didn't take to the notion of it as easily and openly as Slade did," Robin replied bitterly._

_Jonathon smiled wryly._

"_Still mad at him?"_

"_Uh, Jonathon, he __**raped**__ me. And not to mention the near-killing thing __**three **__times…"_

_Jonathon gave a little laugh._

"_He'll get what's coming to him, don't you worry about that… and soon enough…"_

"_What?" Robin turned his head sharply to look at the dead senator._

"_Don't ask, because I can't tell you," Jonathon chastised happily in a song-song voice._

_Robin rolled his eyes in disgust._

"_Jeez, you're like one of those preppy high school girls… You know, "I know something but I'm not telling you what it is!"…"_

"_I don't have to tell you. You'll know soon enough…"_

"_Joy."_

_Robin lay back again and took another bite of his peach._

"_Don't you think this dream is really symbolic?" Jonathon asked after a while._

"_I hadn't noticed."_

"_I'm surprised at you, Mr Junior Detective."_

_Robin shot him a filthy look and sat up again._

"_Alright then, __**educate**__ me…"_

"_Well, it's all symbolic of the journey of self-discovery you have undergone since Seth first appeared to Slade all those weeks back in Jump City Museum."_

"_Journey of self-discovery?" Robin quoted, smiling incredulously. "Oh please, Jonathon… Seth and Slade both tried to kill me, and I managed to stay alive, and save the other Titans and Raven to boot…"_

"_Robin, I hate to say it, but the very __**second**__ Slade began to violate you in that asylum, you lost faith in yourself. Like most rape victims, you felt that __**you**__ were to blame, you felt worthless and used. You began to lose interest in the team, you argued with your friends, you destroyed your room, you tried to be something – __**anything**__ – that wasn't Robin…"_

"_How is that self-discovery?"_

"_Will you let me finish?" Jonathon snapped._

"_Sorry."_

"_You quit being leader after Seth inflicted you with the demonic possession that gave you wings because again you felt worthless and useless. After everything in Azarath was fixed, the Teen Titans were killed on Slade's command. You were propelled forwards in time by Seth, who wanted to use you for a real prophecy – and again, he made you feel worthless. He called you a wretched mortal, said that you had never been anything but a puppet for his use…"_

"_And?"_

"_And now… you believe in yourself again. You have taken back your role as leader of the team…_

_Robin smiled again._

"_Okay, perhaps… But how is this dream symbolic of that?"_

"_It is symbolic of everything you have conquered and achieved."_

"_Like…?"_

"_Well, that peach, for one thing."_

"_This peach?"_

"_That peach."_

"_How?"_

"_According to ancient Chinese lore, the peach is symbolic of immortality – in the sense of the never-ending wheel of life and death. Circle of life, you know? One person dies, and another person lives."_

"_Yeah, I saw _The Lion King_."_

"_And have you not learned that there is no end to anything? Has your study of Wicca not shown you that? People will live, people will die, lives will be forever changed. There will be good and bad, right and wrong, love and hatred… but there is no __**end**__."_

"_Uh-huh. What else?"_

"_Raven."_

_Robin looked down at her._

"_Not pregnant. Which is a __**good**__ thing."_

_Jonathon nodded._

"_Dressed in white to symbolise purity. She has been well and truly saved."_

"_In real life, she's healing herself."_

"_That is what her sleeping state here represents. I must warn you, it may take a long while for her to awaken. Even with the protection spell in place, that knife wasn't very good for her…"_

"_I thought about that."_

"_Did you think about __**this**__?" Jonathon patted the ground of the island. "This is where you impregnated her. To be here now in a dream… It represents the archetypical hero's journey. This is where you set out from, in reality – everything only began to become complicated once Raven was impregnated. To return here now is like the hero returning home after victory." _

_Robin shook his head wearily._

"_Jonathon, these are all very tenuous links…"_

"_This is a __**dream**__. You expect it to make __**sense**__?"_

"_It would be nice if, for once, something __**did**__…"_

_Jonathon frowned at him for a moment or two; the abruptly stood up and held out his hand to Robin._

"_What?"_

"_Just come with me."_

"_What about-?"_

"_Just leave her there. She'll be fine."_

_Confused, Robin lay Raven gently aside and allowed Jonathon pull him up and lead him over to the lake, gently lapping at the edge of the tiny island. Pushing Robin out a little way, Jonathon followed him until they were both submerged to their knees._

"_What are you doing?" Robin asked wildly._

"_Be quiet," Jonathon replied snippily. "Just look at your reflection. What do you see?"_

"_I see me." Robin rolled his eyes. "Jonathon, what part of "I saw _The Lion King_" didn't you understand?"_

"_Oh, for Azar's sake, I don't expect an apparition of your parents or Batman to appear in the clouds to tell you to believe in yourself," Jonathon snapped. "Just look hard. What do you see? The image; what is the __**image**__ you see?"_

"_I see… __**me**__."_

"_And who __**are**__ you?"_

"_Robin?"_

"_Yes, you __**are**__ Robin. You're a hero, the Boy Wonder, Batman's infamous partner, the leader of the Teen Titans… You might not realise it, but you're a __**symbol**__ of good and virtue… You're clever, you're strong, but most importantly, you're determined to help people. That's what makes a __**real**__ hero… You believed yourself weak and worthless because Slade __**abused**__ you and because Seth __**used**__ you; doubted your strength and ability to do what you do – what you have been __**taught**__ to do. You should never think that – everybody has their weaknesses and faults. No man and no world can ever be perfect – and those who aspire to such a goal are only destroyed, as Seth was. Sometimes I think you'll find that it is the man who stumbles time and time again, but picks himself back and keeps running that race who will prevail in the end…"_

_Robin turned to face him, not having an answer for such a philosophical statement._

_Jonathon took Robin's hands and pressed his palms together as though making him pray._

"_Besides…" Jonathon took his own hands away and didn't finish._

_Frowning, Robin opening his hands like a book… and was astounded as an entire stream of apparative shimmering bats flitted out as though he had been holding a butterfly captive in his hands; taking off high up into the sky, leaving a glittering trail of dust behind them._

_He stared after them; and then turned his gaze on Jonathon._

_The dead senator smiled._

"…_You have a lot to live up to," he finally finished. "He taught you well. No matter what Slade has ever told you, believe me, __**he**__ could not teach you better. He could only corrupt and destroy you…"_

_Robin looked up again at the last of the glimmering bats and at the stars and at the twin moons._

"_It's unlike you to be so… profound, Jonathon," he murmured, smirking slightly._

_Jonathon Vaughan grinned._

"_Just telling it like it is…" _

Ah ha ha ha ha ha…

Check out my lame spell. :D Well, the whole "May the Watchtower blahblahblah…" is all real, but the spell Robin recites was made up by me, which is why it's lame…

My god, Jonathon just won't stay dead…

Okay, well, that's the scary demon child dealt with – but the Titans still have an even scarier villain to face:

Nope, not Slade.

The press.

Oh, horrors…!


	40. A Better Place

Okay, okay, OKAY! I know I keep promising that I won't take ages between updates and then I go and leaving you hanging for like three months… Only I actually have a (semi) valid excuse this time around. Well, I added a lot of stuff to the FFNet version of _Black Magic_ and had to add a lot of stuff to the FFNet version of _Remember the Titans_, and I needed to add some stuff this chapter to tie up the loose ends concerning Arella, Marcus Vandiver and Jonathon Vaughan the Ubër Friendly Ghost, only I really haven't have time to get around to it before now. I have exams on right now, I had a lot of work for university previously to that, and I've been working on _Poison Apple_ over on the _Death Note_ section as well as other projects for that section, and I kept meaning to update this but I couldn't unless I added the relevant stuff in here…

And, well, never mind, because it is DONE NOW! Hurrah!

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the penultimate-penultimate chapter of _Remember the Titans_. After this only TWO CHAPTERS remain and then we are FINISHED!!1111!!11! OMG, we've come so far, thankyou so much to everyone who is still here, I know I've been a bitch for updating this past year or so… O.o

TO **CHANCELESS**: Finally, we come to the chapter in which is the (very brief) cameo from the one and only **Static Shock**! Oh, god, feels like I've been promising you this for like a year… You probably don't even care anymore, hahaha… :)

Thankyou to: **Quinn and His Quill, Coolteenzz, Guardian of Azarath, Someone, Amara-chan, Narroch, TheFallenAngel67, Kitty-Katz-Katz, Shinigami-Virus, LoopyLouise123, The Fate of an Amaryllis, WonderRaven13, Brendan Aurabolt, Simmie, DragonPrincess1988, Me **and** SylverEyes!**

A NOTE: I _do_ like RobinxRaven. It was the first pairing I latched on to when I started writing _Teen Titans_ fanfiction many years ago. In fact, back then, I thought I'd _invented_ it… O.o BUT this fic is CANON, and thus… the RobinxRaven-ness has to fade away.

I'm sorry.

A Better Place

"It is done."

Marcus Vandiver looked up from his desk towards Arella, who stood wraithlike before him in robes of cream and gold.

Arella offered a weak smile, clutching at one of her elbows as her gaze slid away to the floor.

"I know," she said softly. "With… _Seth_, anyway, and his child, but…"

"Arella…" Marcus sighed it, sweeping a tress of his brown hair aside from his indigo eyes. "…Trigon, you know that nothing can be done, you know it as well as I – no, as her mother, _better_ than I…"

"But this business with Seth…!" Arella cried. "Hasn't it only proved that… that prophecies can be changed, avoided…? It was prophesied that that boy would die and Seth would get his power back, and it didn't happen! Raven destroyed him—"

"Arella," Marcus interrupted wearily, "you forget yourself. Trigon is unspeakably… well, his powers far eclipses Seth Elliott's, and why was it that Raven was able to kill Seth? _Because of Trigon's power_. And if Seth himself could not stand up against the _daughter_ of Trigon…"

"But Raven is not evil," Arella argued. "She is a good person, she—"

"Sometimes goodness alone is not enough."

"Then why do those children fight as they do?" Arella burst out, leaning over the desk. "Tell me that, Marcus – those Teen Titans, why do they fight for the sake of good?"

"I never once meant to imply that goodness alone was a noble cause for which to fight," Marcus replied coolly. "For why else did Jonathon lose his life? He was powerful, but no match for Seth, and he was killed because of the goodness for which he fought. Don't you see, Arella? Goodness is a noble cause – but not an end. It is not a weapon with which we can fight, only the flag that we carry with us into battle."

Arella fell silent, and Marcus tiredly rubbed at his aching temples.

"Still," he said, in a tone yet quieter, "perhaps you may be right. Perhaps there may be odds we have not considered, perhaps Raven _shall_ prevail, who is to truly know…?"

Arella looked up, her smile weak but definite; Marcus returned it.

"And," he went on, more firmly, "let us not look to the wars of tomorrow, but to the victories of the present. Seth and his influence are gone. It is no mean battle which we have won."

"Yes," Arella agreed softly; and when Marcus held out his palm towards her, she clasped her slender hand in his.

"To a better time," Marcus said, "and a better place."

Arella gave a nod of firm agreement, taking her hand back as she prepared to leave; he was visibly busy, and she had errands of her own to attend to.

However, as she reached the door, she glanced back at him, as she had many times before, and asked of him;

"…And what of Jonathon?"

Marcus met her gaze determinedly across the office.

"I believe that he, too," he replied, "is in a better place."

* * *

It was extremely out of character for him to do so, but Robin slept late the next morning; sprawled on his mattress on his stomach, one leg hanging off the edge of the bed, the covers half on the floor, and with his curtains pulled across, until gone eleven.

He seriously hadn't slept that late in _years_.

He didn't like to sleep in, which was why he didn't do it – but this morning he didn't feel too bad for it. In fact, he had rather enjoyed it, although he wasn't going to make a regular habit out of it.

Eventually sitting up, he was surprised that no-one (namely Starfire or Beast Boy) had bounded in and disturbed him by now, but clearly they were aware of his need to rest and catch up on sleep and had left him alone.

It was 11:07am when he finally pried himself from his bed and went to go have a shower.

In the bathroom, he leaned against the sink and looked at his hands. He had wrapped bandages around them, from his wrists upwards but leaving his fingers and thumbs free; in the way that he often to did to give his hands a little more support when going through a rigorous martial arts workout. The burns were extremely painful but he had rubbed anti-burn ointment on his hands and wrapped them up, and that was really all he could do.

He slowly unwrapped the bandages now, catching sight of himself in the mirror and voicing a weary little groan; it looked as though someone had backcombed his hair with a brush charged with static electricity.

He ran his hands under cold water for a while to soothe them, then turned on the shower and stepped into the cubicle. It was agony on his hands as he washed his hair, but he found some comfort in the shower radio, which played, rather ironically, _Sweet Child of Mine_. He couldn't sing it as well as Cyborg, but he went along with the words he knew to the best of his ability.

It made him feel better.

He stepped out, towelled off, got dressed, rubbed his hair dry, brushed his teeth, combed and gelled his hair, sat on the edge of the bath and rubbed more anti-burn stuff onto his hands and then wrapped the bandages back around them; and then sat for a little longer, pulling on his gloves over the bandages, and decided that the "Get-Ready-O-Matic" machine they had in _The Jetsons_ really wasn't such a bad idea.

Get in, push the button, and the machine did everything for you; and you walked out the other side, completely washed, dressed, and ready to face the day ahead.

Too bad it was just a cartoon. Fantastical nonsense…

He smiled, and couldn't think why.

He left the bathroom and went downstairs in the elevator; on his way there he passed the gym, the door of which was closed, but he heard an animalistic roar from beyond it, and the familiar metallic twinkling sound of starbolts.

Beast Boy and Starfire were working out.

Robin was pleased, and decided to join them after he got something to eat.

He found Cyborg in the front room on the couch, drinking a strawberry milkshake from MacDonald's and watching wrestling on TV.

"You know that's all fake, right?" Robin asked sweetly, leaning over the back of the couch.

Cyborg blinked and looked over at him; and then grinned.

"Yo, Robbie. How's life treating you this morning?"

"Okay." Robin shrugged. "They played _Sweet Child of Mine_ on the shower radio."

"Ah, wish I'd been there…"

Robin blinked at him, alarmed.

"_I'm_ glad you _weren't_!"

Cyborg pulled a grotesque face at him.

"You know what I mean."

He looked back at the TV screen, on which a masked wrestler in red leotard with a skull on the front, and with a matching mask, was rolling and writhing on the floor of the ring, while another bulky fellow in black and silver was hoisting himself up onto the ropes.

"And yeah, I know this is all fake." He pointed at the wrestler in red. "I mean, check out that guy. _Complete_ faker. Honestly, some of these wrestlers should be awarded _Oscars_ for their acting ability…"

Robin looked at Cyborg pointedly.

"And speaking of fighting… how come you aren't practicing with BB and Star?"

Cyborg grinned guiltily.

"I thought I might as well take advantage of the fact that you were still snoozing…"

"Uh-huh…"

Robin walked away towards the kitchen.

"I'll be back now!" He called.

"Okay!" Cyborg paused, and then added; "Yo, bring me a Mallow Blaster, will you?"

Robin looked back around the doorframe, his masked eyes narrowed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I read in a history book somewhere that Abraham Lincoln _abolished_ slavery in the US…"

"Just get that candy bar, Batboy!"

Ticked, Robin stomped to the fridge, grabbed the Mallow Blaster and threw it onto the table. Then he bent down and had a rummage around for something for himself. Perhaps it was because it was late – almost noon – or maybe it just because he hadn't eaten very much these past few days, but he was starving this morning.

He got a plate and piled some leftovers on it; a slice of Cajun chicken and red pepper pizza, a few king prawns and some strips of honey glazed flame-grilled chicken.

"Hey, Cy, you want some pizza?" He yelled into the front room.

"Sure!" Cyborg called back. "And don't forget my Mallow Blaster!"

Robin muttered to himself as he put his plate and the pizza box on the sideboard, pulling out two cans of Coca Cola. Then he made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, balanced it all in his arms, and went back into the front room.

"Jeez," Cyborg commented in surprise, looking at Robin's plate. "Is there a special occasion for this gluttony?"

"Yeah." Robin flopped onto the couch and slouched right down, balancing his plate on his stomach. "I'm hungry."

Cyborg shrugged and opened the pizza box, immediately stuffing a slice down him.

"What was that about gluttony?" Robin barbed, picking up the remote and flipping the channel.

"Hey! I was watching that!" Cyborg protested.

"Uh, Cy, they have better fights on _Jerry Springer_…"

Cyborg went back to his pizza rather sulkily as Robin channel-surfed.

Wildlife programme. Cooking programme with that weird French guy. Something about sharks. _Barney the Dinosaur_ (he changed the channel as though it was burning his eyes from their sockets). Fox, showing something with Luke Perry in it. Some black and white preppy 50s sitcom. Beast Boy's favourite, _Clash of the Planets_. _Sesame Street_…

He stopped on the news when something caught his eye.

Something big and handsome in red and blue.

There was Superman, grinning away at the camera, being interviewed by Lois Lane.

_LIVE_ was at the top left corner of the screen.

"Hey, Superman!" Cyborg exclaimed.

Blanking him, Robin turned up the volume.

"…And that's the last of them, Superman?"

Superman nodded; and then the camera pulled back to reveal the rest of the Justice League – all six of them – behind him. Batman was off to one side, looking very bored.

"That's right, Ms Lane," Superman replied. "The Justice League, with the help of the Teen Titans in Jump City and one Static Shock of North Dakota, has successfully rounded up all of the inmates who escaped from Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane during the break-out last month and put them back where they belong."

Robin and Cyborg exchanged glances, grinning.

Lois Lane was suddenly elbowed out of the way by a redheaded reporter who was familiar to Robin, at least: Summer Gleason.

"Have you just come from the asylum now?" She asked excitedly.

"Uh-huh." Superman gave another nod. "Just put the last of them away. The past few days have been busy. We had a dozen non-notorious escapees trying to get away on a ship from Metropolis docks, and the Riddler took us for a ride over in Steel City two nights ago. Thanks to the Teen Titans and Static, the job has taken less time than it would have. The Titans took care of Killer Croc for us just the other day, and Static carted Harley Quinn back to Arkham himself yesterday evening."

"Little punk, horning in on our racket," Cyborg muttered, referring to Static. "Damn amateur…"

Robin smiled, still watching the screen; he was pleased and relieved to hear that all of the criminals has been returned to Arkham and locked up again where they belonged.

A grainy feed of Static Shock had appeared on the screen now, with the words RECORDED EARLIER flashing along the top of the screen. The African-American teen, with his white face-mask and blue and yellow hip-hop inspired hero uniform, was grinning enthusiastically as he spoke.

"Well, I'm just glad I could help, you know?" He rubbed at his black dreadlocks, as though embarrassed now at being in front of the cameras. "I just figure we heroes gotta stick together and help each other out. When I heard the Justice League was looking for these guys, I felt like _I_ should help out. I figured one of 'em would come running my way sooner or later…"

"Thankyou, Static."

Static gave a little wave and big white-toothed grin at the camera before the feed vanished, presenting Robin and Cyborg with the live interview again.

Cyborg was insulted.

"Yo, they interview that little wannabe before _us_?" He stormed. "We're the _professional_ teen heroes. He's just some kid who got zapped one night by weird gas and decided to borrow an outfit from Lil' Romeo's closet…"

Robin smiled and patted Cyborg's arm, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Cyborg, be very _glad_ that Lois Lane wasn't stalking us…"

Looking back at the screen, they could see that Wonder Woman and Batman were now flanking Superman, although the latter still seemed very disinterested.

Lois Lane had also reclaimed her place and was asking questions again.

"…Do you have any idea who did this?" She inquired, holding out her microphone.

"Well, word among the criminals we rounded up was that the Joker was behind it," Wonder Woman answered, tossing her mane of ebony hair back.

"Do you believe that?" Lois pressed.

Wonder Woman shook her head, but Batman was at the microphone before she could speak.

"There is no doubt that the Joker has something to do with this," he said, his voice as brittle and cold as always. "However, he didn't do it alone. I was there on the night of the breakout, and he had outside help."

Superman was promptly pushed aside by Lois, who was now far more interested in the Dark Knight; Big Blue looked extremely put out.

"You were _there_?"

"Robin and I."

"_Robin_?" Lois Lane was really smiling now; because _she_ was getting the reporting gold.

And Robin was another source.

She beckoned to a cameraman, turning away from Batman for a second.

"Hey, Archie, write that down for me; call up the Teen Titans for questioning."

Robin and Cyborg looked at each other wildly.

"_Great_," Cyborg groaned. "_Now_ they want us…"

"I thought you wanted to be interviewed," Robin pointed out scathingly, unamused by the revelation that he was going to be plagued by Lois Lane for at least a week.

"Not by _her_…"

On screen, Archie nodded and went back to his camera.

Batman completely ignored this entire charade;

"The person responsible for this is a man known enigmatically simply as "Slade". He operates from Jump City, which the Teen Titans are protectors of. I am still unsure as to why he did this, but it can be assumed that it was the Joker he was after."

"And did you catch this Slade?" Lois probed.

Behind her, Superman snorted.

"One slippery customer," he muttered; something which Robin heartily agreed with. "And I think I have a hard time with Lex Luthor…"

Lois turned around, not hearing his exact words and thinking he had something to add. The camera followed her, moving away from Batman.

"Could you repeat that into the microphone, Superman?" She asked, holding it up.

Superman smiled serenely, pleased to be back in the spotlight.

"I said that Slade is difficult to catch. The Teen Titans primarily deal with him, but I myself have clashed with him once, and Batman has come into contact with him in the past as well."

"Don't you think that is rather _dangerous_ then, to be allowing a group of _teenagers_ to face this man?" Lois asked emotionlessly; she was only here for the information, after all.

Robin and Cyborg exchanged glances.

Superman shrugged.

"Why don't you ask Batman? He's the one who let his sidekick go running off by himself…"

Lois Lane turned away from Superman again towards Batman… and her face fell. The camera followed her up and once it caught up with her, the reason for her expression became apparent.

Batman had vanished.

Superman sighed and shook his head.

"I _hate_ it when he does that…"

"I'm going to _kill_ him!" Robin seethed, ripping aggressively at a strip of honey-glazed chicken with his teeth.

"Kill who?"

"_Batman_!" Robin ate very quickly and violently when he was angry. "Jeez, set us up for a huge press conference with Lois Lane! If he'd only kept his mouth shut…"

"I don't mind answering a few questions." Cyborg preened, grinning. "Besides, we can't deny our adoring public, right?"

"Hello?" Robin brandished his Coke and spilt some of it onto his lap. "This is _Lois Lane_! Scary-much? The other reporters we've spoken to have been for the _Jump City Times_, and they aren't nearly so aggressive. But the _Daily Planet_ is like the biggest newspaper for about ten states over. It competes with the _New York Times_, Cy. Trust me… Lois Lane is a _scary_ reporter. And since this is connected with the Justice League, she's gonna want all the information she can _get_ out of us…"

"Ah…" Cyborg suddenly didn't look as thrilled. "You've been interviewed by her before?"

"Oh yes. Little tip, Cy; _never_ work with Superman. Every time Bruce and I helped him out in a case, we always got grilled by Lois Lane for our trouble…"

They watched the rest of the interview in silence; Superman was beginning to look very bored by the end of it. Barely listening – too busy being annoyed with Bruce for landing them in it – Robin finished his "breakfast" mini-buffet and got up.

"Where you going now?" Cyborg asked, flipping back to the wrestling as soon as the interview ended.

"To get ice-cream."

Cyborg gave him a weird look.

"Is it me, or are you eating like a pig today? Don't tell me _you're_ pregnant as well…"

"Real mature, Cy. Just for that, I'm not telling you where those _Playboys_ are hidden…"

He flounced away with his nose in the air.

"Okay, well, when you get fat from all this junk food, I'm just gonna laugh!" Cyborg called after him as he stalked into the kitchen. "And then I'll enrol you in a weight-loss club, and then laugh some more!"

Robin leaned back around the door and pulled a face at him.

And then the phone rang.

Robin scarpered back into the kitchen.

"If that's Lois Lane, tell her I'm dead!" He yelled.

"That's right, save your own ass," Cyborg griped, getting up and stomping out of the front room to answer the phone.

Sincerely hoping it wasn't Lois Lane, Robin dug into the freezer and found some _Ben and Jerry's_ that Cyborg hadn't scarfed yet. He got a tall glass and made himself a sundae of _New York Chocolate Fudge Brownie_ and _Cookie Dough _ice cream, topping it with chocolate sauce and marshmallows.

He couldn't explain why he suddenly had this desire to eat so much junk, but…

…hey, why not?

"_Moment on the lips, forever on the hips"_? At the moment, he really just didn't give a damn—

"…Robin's in the kitchen. Yeah… uh-huh…"

Cyborg came into the kitchen, the phone to his ear; and grinned at Robin, who was perched on the sideboard eating his ice-cream.

He shot Cyborg a filthy look.

Cyborg smirked in reply.

"Yeah, you can talk to him… No, he's not busy. In fact, he's in here stuffing ice-cream… Well, I just _told_ him that…"

Robin glared at him; although he was getting the feeling that it wasn't Lois Lane Cyborg was talking to.

Come on, even Cyborg wouldn't just tell Lois Lane that Robin was eating ice-cream. She wouldn't _care_.

Cyborg held out the phone and Robin grudgingly took it.

"Hello?"

"Hey," came Batman's emotionless drawl.

"Hi, Bruce." Robin gave a nervous little swallow; he hadn't spoken to Bruce – _his_ Bruce; _his_ Batman – since that night at Arkham Asylum, and even _then_… he had yelled at him.

"Just saw you on the news," he went on, putting his ice-cream to one side.

Batman snorted.

"Lois Lane… nice girl, but a pain in the backside…"

"Yeah, even Superman looked bored by the end of it…"

"Yes." Batman suddenly went silent.

"Uh, Bruce?"

"Mm?"

"Why… why did you call?" Robin slipped down off the sideboard and walked away across the kitchen, turning his back on Cyborg.

"Oh…" More silence. "I just… wanted to… talk to you…"

Robin got the feeling that Batman wanted to say something, but either couldn't find the words for it, or…

"Okay, well…" Robin trailed off hopelessly. "Here I am…"

"I know."

There was yet another long awkward silence.

Batman cleared his throat.

"Robin—"

He cut himself off abruptly as Robin heard another voice suddenly in the background.

"What do you want?" Batman hissed, obviously not speaking to Robin.

Silence.

"Clark says "Hi"," Batman said eventually, addressing Robin again; his tone was very jaded.

"Oh, um… tell him I said "Hi" back," Robin replied after a long pause.

Batman relayed the message and Robin heard them converse beyond his comprehension for a moment or two.

"Robin, Superman said that one of Brainiac's viruses has attacked the bank's computer mainframe," Batman said eventually. "The League has to move out _now_."

"Oh. Okay." Robin didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"Listen…" Batman dropped his voice to a whisper. "Meet me tonight on the roof of Wayne Enterprises. Midnight."

"O-okay, but-"

Batman was gone.

Robin turned off the phone and held it out, looking at it for a moment or two.

"Jeez, _that_ was weird…"

He turned back to Cyborg—

"_Hey_!"

Cyborg was gone.

And so was Robin's sundae.

—

By four in the afternoon, Lois Lane had caught up with the Titans.

And by six in the evening, the three available teens – Robin, Cyborg and Beast Boy – were seated together at a table, waiting for the camera cue.

Raven was still unconscious, healing herself; it was taking her a very long time due to the nature of the knife, and Starfire had opted to stay behind and keep an eye on her.

Although Lois Lane and the rest of the _Daily Planet_ crew were more interested in Robin than anyone else, since he had been a witness at the Arkham break-out, they seemed pleased to have three members there.

Beast Boy was inspecting his teeth in a hand-held mirror, while Cyborg was mumbling something to himself.

"…And with the entirety of the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane escapees from the break-out right here in Gotham last month now back behind bars, we can now only do two things," Lois Lane was saying, speaking into a microphone in front of a wine-red wall adorned with a US flag. "Ask ourselves just who was responsible for this chaos, and furthermore praise the authorities and costumed heroes of all the cities involved. Spreading outwards from Gotham City, criminals fled to surrounding areas, including Metropolis, Jump, Steel, East, Central, and even fleeing as far in opposite directions as New York and Dakota. The criminals were rounded up by various police forces and costumed crime-fighters, including some independent such as Dakota's own Static Shock; but most notably the Justice League and the Teen Titans. The Gotham City Police Department also played a key role in the arrests and handling of many criminals."

Lois Lane crossed to the table, her high heels tapping sharply on the linoleum floor, the camera tracking her movement.

"I have here with me now three of the five members of the teenaged super-group, led by a familiar face to Gotham City." Ignoring Cyborg and Beast Boy, Lois shoved the microphone right at Robin. "You were at Arkham Asylum with your partner on the night of the breakout. Do you have any inside information?"

"I don't remember it very clearly," Robin admitted. "There was a lot of confusion; someone had let the Scarecrow's fear gas loose throughout the corridors. A lot of the criminals and the GCPD breathed it in, accounting for the mass escape."

"Do you know who was behind it?"

Robin looked at her coolly.

"As Batman said, it was the criminal known as Slade. He was after the Joker to cement a partnership with him, and he let all of the other criminals loose as a distraction."

"Do you know what he wanted with the Joker?"

Robin hesitated; he _did_.

But it involved the prophecy, which had turned out to not be a _real_ prophecy at all, and _that_ was where it started getting very complicated…

He shook his head firmly.

"No, we don't know. The Joker was captured soon after. We can only assume that their plan never came to pass."

Cyborg and Beast Boy stared at their leader in amazement; at his ability to lie so stone-faced in front of a dozen cameras. Slade and the Joker's plan _had_ come to pass.

Their plan had been to lure Robin to Arkham Asylum so that Slade could rape him and take his virginity. As it happened, they hadn't _needed_ to, but they _had_ succeeded.

And yet Robin lied to the cameras, completely unruffled.

"Do you know where Slade is now?" Lois wanted to know, pushing the microphone further at him.

"The Teen Titans came into contact with him only last week," Robin replied icily. "We were unable to apprehend him, however. We have no idea where he is now, but we are searching."

Someone handed Lois something and she looked at it before turning back to the Titans.

"Before we wrap this interview up, could you answer a few more questions for us? About the team?"

Robin, Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged wary looks.

"Uh, sure…?" Robin's tone was slightly questioning as he answered.

Lois Lane held up the thing; it was the previous morning's newspaper, with its headline about Raven's pregnancy.

Robin went slightly pale.

"This?" Lois Lane's eyes glittered excitedly in the face of scandal. "Is it true, or just a rumour that has been blown out of proportion?"

Without missing a beat, Robin replied that it was the latter, sounding even amused by it.

Lois blinked and looked at the paper.

"It isn't true?"

"Nope."

Well, it _wasn't_; at least, not _anymore_.

"Then where did it _come_ from?" Lois demanded.

Robin shrugged.

"Perhaps a look-alike trying to tarnish our reputation," he fabricated smoothly. He shrugged again. "Or, well… these newspapers. They'll write _anything_ on the front page just to sell the paper…"

Lois blinked at him; and then she smirked at him, half in dislike and half in admiration at the quickness of his comeback – a jibe aimed at her occupation.

"You confirm in a statement that your team-mate Raven is not pregnant?" She said, not faltering in the slightest.

Robin nodded.

"Yes."

"Then where are the two female members of the team?" Lois probed. "Why aren't they with you?"

Robin scowled.

"Well, there's still crime happening out on the streets. We couldn't _all_ come."

It was true; although he felt guilty for leaving Starfire with the responsibility, Robin had told her to watch the surveillance as well as Raven, so that she would be aware of any criminal activity. If it was a small crime, she would sort it out herself. If it was big and required a team effort, she would transfer the signal to the communication system and alert the boys.

Lois nodded again.

"Wasn't there a sixth member of the team at one point?" She asked. "A blonde girl?"

Behind him, Beast Boy tensed, and Robin sensed it.

"She wasn't suitable," he said shortly. "Didn't really work with the team dynamics…"

Lois Lane nodded a third time, couldn't seem to think of any more questions to ask, and turned back to the cameras.

"Thankyou to the Teen Titans. If we cross now to our correspondent, David Hackney, outside Arkham Asylum…"

The camera moved away from the Titans as Lois walked away and they were given the all-clear to get up and leave.

"Dude, she didn't ask _us_ a _thing_!" Beast Boy whined to Cyborg on their way down the exit corridor towards the car park.

"BB, it was _me_ she wanted to talk to," Robin said wearily. "I was _there_ on the night, remember?"

"Besides," Cyborg put in, "Robbie's like the Justin Timberlake of the group."

"_Thanks_, Cy."

"How you figure that?" Beast Boy asked.

"He's the only one of the team who's known by absolutely _everyone_. The rest of us are just kinda… Well, do _you_ know the names of the _other_ four members of N-Sync?"

"Uh, I think there's one called Keith…" Beast Boy said thoughtfully.

Ignoring them, wondering what Batman wanted to talk about, Robin almost walked into Commissioner Gordon, who was coming the other way.

"Oh, Commissioner!" Robin smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry!"

"That's alright, lad," the Commissioner grinned. "Interviews with Ms Lane always leave me feeling a little frazzled too…"

There was a little giggle from behind Gordon; and there, with her bright green eyes and wave of brilliant red hair, was Barbara Gordon.

Robin's heart did something weird at seeing her again.

But then, she didn't know that he was…

Damn alter-egos.

Gordon gave Robin a little nod and carried on; Barbara gazed at him for a while longer, looking very hard at him, as though…

…she _knew_.

Robin shot her a little grin as he sailed past, hoping he wasn't blushing.

He had a feeling that he was going to be seeing her pretty soon.

Swooping around Gotham City in a cape and cowl.

There was just… _something_ about her.

Getting into the car, Cyborg and Beast Boy both looked at Robin.

"Well?" Cyborg pressed.

"Who _was_ she?" Beast Boy added. "You _knew_ her."

Robin smiled as he pulled across his seatbelt.

"_That_," he said, "was _Batgirl_."

* * *

"_A better place?" Jonathon Vaughan said loudly, approaching Marcus in the midst of his meditation._

"_What did you want me to say?" Marcus bit out, opening one eye as Jonathon flopped down side him on the bank of the calm river – the imagined spot for his interior meditation. "That you spend most of your time barging into my meditative states to "haunt" me?"_

"_Hey, I can bring bedsheets and chains next time, if you want; you know, to simulate the whole ghost thing. I can clink up and down behind you, moaning that you must change your ways or else Tiny Tim will die, stuff like that."_

"_No thankyou." Marcus opened his other eye, looking at Jonathon. "Were you this flippant when you were giving Robin advice through his dreams?"_

"_Pretty much."_

_Jonathon beamed. _

_Marcus gave a sigh, closing both eyes again and falling silent._

"_You know," he said after a long bout of blissful peace, "I think you are in a better place. We both are, when we're here."_

_Jonathon smirked._

"_Do explain."_

"_Well…" Marcus opened his eyes again, turning his full attention towards the other man. "We can just be together; me and you, the way we couldn't be back… well, you know. Back in the Senate House. I… I think this is a better place, Jonathon – I really do."_

_Jonathon rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the grass with a grin._

"_Cornball."_

* * *

ZOMG, okay, that is it for Marcus, Jonathon and Arella – of course, this contains many allusions to the Season Four_ spectaculaire _concerning Raven, Trigon, Slade's new souped-up powers and Raven metaphorically bitch-slapping Starfire by hugging Robin right in front of her, this episode following the loved-by-RxS-shippers/hated-by-RxR-shippers _Stranded_…

Well, that's all because this is still set waaaaaaaaaay back in Season Two. I feel that I have to keep reminding people of this because… a fanfic set in Season _Two_? What's _up_ with that? God, that was sooooooooooooooo long ago, right? O.o Makes you feel old…

**Chanceless**, it wasn't much, but I hope you enjoyed your Static cameo. God, I haven't seen that show for an age… Seems like _Ben 10_ is the new kid on the block as far as DC Warner Bros kid's shows go. Still, _Ben 10_ is pretty good, I have to say…

Okay, next chapter: THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER, with added Batman-ness! Yayz!

I'm not going to say I'll be quick(er) this time because I'm so tired of lying to you guys and then having to confess to lying in the next ANs…

RobinRocks xXx


	41. Forevermore

My friends! We reach the penultimate chapter of _Remember the Titans_ (at last)!

Lookit, I'm finally getting myself back in gear with updates… it's just a pity the fic is practically over.

Ah, well…

Thankyou to: **SylverEyes **(I think every fifteen-year-old _Teen Titans_ fangirl thinks she pioneered the RobinxRaven pairing because it's just non-canon… I remember coming to FFNet and seeing it everywhere and being like "Oh… There goes my claim to fame…");** Guardian of Azarath **(yeah, you should get back to writing… Did you ever update your story? :D);** TheFallenAngel67 **(Cyborg is not fond of Static Shock not because he is also African American, but because he is a freeloader. Hey, can't argue with that…); **LoopyLouise123 **(yes! Added Batman-ness! Like, fifty percent more Batman-ness! It's healthy!);** DragonPrincess1988 **(yay! Here's more right here!);** Narroch **(oh, god… truthfully, as proud as I am of this fic, mostly because this last part of the trilogy alone is approx 300,000 words long, I don't think I would have finished it if it hadn't been already written like two years ago… It's enough effort just to update it… It's just that _Poison Apple_ is more epically gay and thus entertains me more…); **The Fate of an Amaryllis **(RobinxRaven most certainly was the "first pairing I latched on to", looooooooong before I went off on my short-lived-but-very-intense RobinxSlade rampage… You know, I might have killed The Joker off in _Asylum_… Did I kill him? God, that's bad – I don't remember. I either did kill him off or meant to in the original plan for _Asylum_ but didn't…); **Simmie **(eh heh heh… my exams… They're going okay, I think – I even wrote about the importance of hockey as Canada's "national pastime" last Thursday…); and **Me **(you're upset that there's only two more chapters? I'm very flattered that you like _Remember the Titans_, but surely you're sick looking at it by now…? I know I am…).

**Quinn and His Quill**… review or else – I know where you live. I also know Jedi Mind Control, your name and face and how to create a Spirit Bomb. We can go all day with this…

IRONY: The reason it took me so long to update the last chapter was because I wanted to add that extra stuff about Marcus, Jonathon and Arella, and then… not one single person mentions it!

Ha, guess you all found Robin/Cyborg/watching-trash-TV/bitching-about-Static-Shock more entertaining…

Forevermore

Dropping from the sky; reeling in his grappling hook as he fell, his cape fluttering behind him like wings, Robin landed gracefully on the roof of Wayne Enterprises and looked around quizzically.

Batman was nowhere in sight.

Typical; and Robin had been hoping not to stay here long, due to the bad memories this roof conjured up.

Memories the word "apprentice" brought up.

Starting across the huge roof, Robin smiled as he thought that maybe he was actually here before Bruce. That would be a first—

"You're late".

Robin jumped and wheeled to see Batman slipping out from the shadows behind the huge "A" of the massive "WAYNE" adorning the roof of the Gotham skyscraper.

"Are you sure _you're_ not just early?"

A trace of a smirk crossed Batman's stern face.

"Quite sure."

"Yeah?" Robin folded his arms. "Well, if you're about to lay into me for something, let me just put my two cents in first; I was not pleased with the way _you_ landed us in it today. My schedule today went from one extreme to the other…"

"Oh?" Batman folded his own arms, perhaps mimicking his sidekick, or maybe it was Batman's trait all along and Robin had unconsciously picked it up from him.

It hardly mattered.

"Please do regale me," Batman went on, his voice a little mocking.

"Well, if you must know, I've had a tough week; actually, make that a tough _month_. And today I was just hoping for a lazy day to get some R&R, and, well… I think it got off to a pretty good start. I didn't get up until eleven, and then I had a shower and ate some junk food and ice cream… But then _you_ opened your mouth on live TV to _Lois Lane_, of _all_ people, and there goes my entire day of lazing on my butt watching brain-rotting cartoons and _Jerry Springer_."

"You don't **like** _Jerry Springer_. You once said to me that _Jerry Springer_ was utter garbage."

"That's not the point," Robin snapped. "The point is that I had Lois Lane on my case all afternoon, and at six Cy, BB and I had to go down to the TV studios, where she basically just asked me the same stuff she asked Superman this morning. And then we went to get pizza to bring back for the girls, only we never got around to it because Dr Light was causing trouble at the gas station – and don't ask _why_ he was at the gas station, because _I_ don't know, and _he_ probably didn't know either… He probably thought he was at the _bank_ or something…"

Batman gave a low, rare little chuckle.

"Alright, I do take full responsibility for the Lois Lane thing, but Dr Light? Robin, _that's_ not _my_ fault…"

Robin sighed heavily.

"I know, I know… I'm just so trashed right about now and I could have done without Lois breathing down my neck today… I think I'm just going to sleep all day tomorrow…"

Again Batman laughed; clearly he was not taking this seriously at all.

"I know this is a stressful duty, Robin, but _really_; suffering a midlife crisis already? You're only sixteen!"

"_Ha_," Robin deadpanned boredly.

_Midlife crisis my foot; would you __**believe**__ that whole Avenger/rape/possession/fake prophecy/real prophecy/pregnancy/near-death-several-times/séance/Wiccan magic crisis…?_

Batman, of course, knew nothing of any of it; and Robin thought it was better that way. There was no point in trying to explain the entire complicated "tale" from start to finish when there was no need for it.

"What do you want, anyway?" He asked eventually, tapping his foot. "Not that it isn't nice to see you and everything, but… I mean, this is kinda weird. Calling me up here at this time of night, I mean…"

As before, on the phone, Batman offered nothing but a long awkward silence.

"You know… I'm not quite sure…" He said finally.

Robin turned and blinked at him.

"You… aren't quite _sure_?"

Batman shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I… just felt like I _should_. I guess… I wanted to talk to you, but now that we're here, I don't know what to say…"

"Okaaay… um, you got a new rug in the drawing room?"

Batman frowned.

"Uh, no."

"You put all the bats from the Batcave into a box, and then, at night, sneaked over to Clark's apartment in Metropolis and let them loose in his bathroom?"

"No!" Batman said, sounding both incredulous and amused.

"You're pregnant?"

"Oh, yes, that was it," Batman replied dryly. His gaze hardened. "And speaking of… where _did_ that ridiculous speculation about your team-mate come from?"

Robin shrugged helplessly, realizing that Bruce could probably see through him anyway.

_He knew_.

"Just stupid press." Robin smiled sweetly at him.

Batman's hard, piercing gaze did not budge or soften a millimetre.

"You can't prove anything, you know," Robin added coolly.

"Because _you_ got rid of the evidence?"

"There _was_ no evidence."

Itwas true; Batman did not believe him, but there_ was _no evidence. Yesterday, Raven had been in labour; now she was completely fine, and it wasn't because she had given birth. There was no trace of the demonic child anywhere in this world at all, because it hadn't been aborted and destroyed.

It had been slain and disintegrated to nothing by a spell.

And that was something, in his ignorance of this entire situation, that Batman could not rationally explain away.

"If you _are_ hiding something from me, Robin, you know that I _will_ find out about it sooner or later," the Dark Knight said eventually.

"I know, World's Greatest Detective," Robin answered coolly, irked by his mentor's mistrust of him.

Even if Robin _was_ lying.

"So if you _are_ hiding something, it would be better if you told me now," Batman went on. "Because I _will_ be angry if you lie to me and then I find out about it."

Robin rounded on him.

"Look, I know you think I was stupid and got my team-mate pregnant, but it wasn't like that, and she _is not pregnant_, okay? You can stop by the tower and see her, if you want." Swinging away again, angered, Robin presented Batman with his back. "So, if that was _all_ you wanted… _Nice_ talking to you, Bruce. See you around…"

Batman caught his arm to stop him from walking away.

"Robin… Dick, I'm sorry… j-just hold up a second, okay? Don't storm off…"

"Bruce, _what_ do you _want_?" Robin asked in exasperation, turning back to him. "Why did you call me out here? BB and Cy went to the drive-through and I couldn't go with them because I thought you had something important to tell me, and this is _it_?"

"I…" Batman trailed off and let go of Robin's arm. "… It was just stupid… You go catch up with your friends, okay? Sorry to have dragged you out here…"

"Nuh-uh." Robin shook his head, ticked. "If you were sorry, you'd just tell me so I wouldn't feel like I'd completely wasted my time and missed _Revenge of the Blob Monster_."

"Oh, by the sound of it, you're missing some top quality stuff there," Batman muttered dryly.

"BB's choice." Robin's eyes narrowed. "Bruce. Spill. _Now_."

Batman gave a weary groan and then even looked a little embarrassed.

"Look, I had this… _dream_…" He averted his eyes from Robin's face. "Last night, after I got back from shoving the last of those lunatics back in Arkham with the League… I just remember being really tired, and Alfred said… something or other, I can't even remember. And I just got into bed and fell into… well, the deepest sleep I've had in a _long_ time. And the dream I had… it was so vivid, really indescribable… But what got me was that _I_ wasn't really in it." Batman drew a deep breath and looked back at his Boy Wonder. "_You_ were. It was about _you_."

"Doing… _what_, exactly?"

"Well, I couldn't really make sense of it, it was all these different images, like… _visions_ or something… But you… in all of them, you were very brave. You were strong, agile, you used your head… A real hero, just like I taught you to be…"

"Modest-much?" Robin teased, slightly embarrassed; and inwardly knowing that that wretched Jonathon Vaughan had something to do with this…

"Just honest. I trained you to the _utmost_ of my ability, and Alfred did his fair share too. I wouldn't expect anything less from you…"

"That your way of saying you're proud of me?" Robin asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Batman was silent for a while.

"Yeah," he said finally. "But in more ambiguous words."

Robin smirked.

"You called me _all the way out here_ to say that?"

Batman shrugged.

"Well, _I_ wouldn't expect anything less from _you_," Robin went on mirthfully. "If you had just said you were proud outright, I would have been worried about what had happened to the _real_ Batman."

Batman sighed and shook his head.

"Dick Grayson, I am going to _cut_ your sharp tongue out with a batarang one day…"

Robin grinned.

"You'd have to catch me first, Bruce…"

The sudden sound of a disruptive ruckus drifted up from the street below and Batman and Robin both looked over the edge of Wayne Enterprises. It was difficult to see because they were so high up, but they could both tell that someone was up to no good.

"And speaking of _catching_," Robin muttered as a figure in dark colours began to flee down the street, chased by three others.

Batman pulled out his grappling hook; and then paused and looked at Robin.

"Are you coming or not?"

Robin pulled out his own strong grappling cable and deftly tossed it from his left hand to his right.

"Duh… Wouldn't miss it." A wicked grin stole across his face. "And from up here, _we_ won't miss _him_."

Batman sighed wearily.

"Do you _ever_ stop?"

"Oh shush, you love it…"

"Hm." Batman actually gave him a little smile. "Just how _do_ I survive without you?"

Or was it a smirk?

Robin didn't know anymore.

All he knew – as he soared through night sky after his mentor – was that he was _home_.

In _all_ senses of the word.

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the roof of Titans Tower, Robin took a deep breath of the cold air, and then wrapped his cape around his shoulders.

He smiled.

He had returned to Jump City and the tower at almost three o' clock that morning and simply hadn't gone to bed; instead he had made himself a coffee, raided the fridge and grabbed the best leftovers seeing as Cyborg hadn't had it in him to come down that particular night, and then simply come up here and sat, awaiting the dawn.

As he would tell Raven much later, he loved sunrise.

It promised endless possibilities; with the sun rose hopes and dreams.

He had learned a _lot_ about that now.

Dawn in October was cold, though…

"Mind if I join you?"

He looked over his shoulder to find Raven standing a few feet back from him; fully clothed back in her everyday attire of that tight black leotard and the purple cloak, which swirled and flapped around her legs and feet in the slight morning wind.

Her hood was down and her large violet eyes glittered.

"Hi, Raven." He beamed at her and patted the roof beside him.

She sat next to him, placing her hands on her lap.

There was a very long – and yet not awkward – silence between them; and when they finally spoke, it was simultaneously;

"So, are you-?"

"I suppose I should-"

Each cut the other off; and then Raven gave a very rare giggle.

"Sorry, you go first…"

"Um, okay…" Robin looked at her pointedly. "You're… okay, right? Everything's fine? You aren't… I mean, there aren't any side-effects from the spell or anything, are there…?"

Raven shook her head.

"I don't think so. It took me a long time to heal myself, but that was because the protection spell stopped me from _dying_, but not really from _all_ of the damage."

"It's gone?"

Raven looked down at her completely-flat stomach.

"It's gone," she said quietly; and he couldn't be sure if her tone was one of sorrow or not.

"Ray, I…"

She looked up at him again as he trailed off.

"You're sorry?" She smiled at him when he gave a little nod. "Don't be. You did what you were _supposed_ to do. If it means anything at all to you… I'm _proud_ of you. You worked that spell out by yourself, you perfected it and you performed it flawlessly, without any prior knowledge of magic."

"Raven, if it wasn't for Jonathon, you'd be dead."

Raven shrugged.

"Well, that's exactly my point," she countered. "Sure, maybe Jonathon helped you; but what you just said… that I would be dead. You _saved_ me, Robin; if it wasn't for you I _would_ be dead. I can only _thank_ you for that."

"That's kind of countered when you take into account that I'm the one that got you pregnant in the _first_ place," Robin pointed out gloomily.

"You may blame yourself for that, Robin, but I don't hold you responsible. Seth got what he wanted out of both of us… or rather, he _would_ have…"

"Yeah, guess we blew his little "Evil Scheme" stand…"

"And once again, we save the world and nobody knows about it but us," Raven added softly, her voice droll.

"I _really_ think it's better if the Teen Titans keep this one to themselves."

"That reminds me…" With a rustle, Raven pulled a newspaper out from beneath her cloak and handed it over. "Seems all of Jump's journalists took notes when Lois Lane's interview was broadcast. We're all off the hook."

"How do you know about that?"

Raven snorted.

"Starfire videotaped it. She kept going on about how… well, it was a Tamaranean word, but I think it might have been the equivalent of "cute". Or maybe "hot". Anyway, she said you were really… _something_ on camera." Raven raised her eyebrows in amusement. "You know how "totally into you" she is, right?"

"Yeah, I _was_ kinda getting that vibe from the way she attacked you the other morning…"

"Just checking."

Robin scanned down the article; it was one which basically condemned all of the previous day's scribings. Just a hunch, but he was betting it was a different journalist who had written this article.

Journalists were pretty good at slagging each other off without making it too apparent.

"…_It can now be confirmed that certain accusations and attacks on the Teen Titans made earlier this week have proven to have been made on false and inaccurate information. The teenaged superhero team, resident to_ _Jump City, has collectively denied that female team member Raven, noted for her telekinetic abilities and goth-like appearance, is, and has ever been, pregnant. Team leader Boy Wonder Robin, originally of Gotham City, stated of the incident in an interview with __**Daily Planet**__ reporter Lois Lane; "Perhaps it was a look-alike trying to tarnish our reputation". It must be noted that ministrations of a similar nature have taken place before, whereupon crimes are committed by criminals posing as superheroes or celebrities in an attempt to frame them. We must then not dismiss this theory; however, in an ironic twist, it was the Titans' leader who received the highest number of votes in our "Which Titan is the Father?" poll in Thursday's edition…"_

"So… we're not entirely off the hook, but as good as?" Robin stated finally.

"I guess you could say that," Raven agreed. "That checkout girl definitely did see me in a maternity wear store; I suppose the one thing we can count on is that Happiness doesn't act anything _like_ me. When the checkout girl reads this paper, she'll probably decide that it was an impersonator. A very badly acting one, too."

"Who ever thought we'd be thanking Happiness _and_ Lois Lane all in one day?" Robin mused dryly, tossing the newspaper onto the roof behind him.

"I think it's quite interesting that you won that poll with a _landslide_ victory," Raven put in, not answering his question.

"You would."

"Well, I just… Because they were right, but they were only guessing. And I mean, the people who voted don't know anything about Seth or anything, so… I just think it's kind of strange that they got it right…"

"Oh, _please_…" He snorted. "I know what you're trying to say – and thanks a _lot_, by the way – but it's perfectly logical that I won."

"Uh-huh." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Because you think you're the "team hottie", as Beast Boy put it, or because you seem to have accumulated some kind of playboy persona?"

"Neither. I'm quite sure you'll find that Batman has a lot to do with this."

"What, he's getting the blame for not equipping your little utility belt with Bat-condoms?"

"Partly."

When she looked surprised, he rummaged through his belt and pulled out a folded-up sheet of paper.

"Look, I had a feeling that Batman might be part of the reason that I pretty much got the finger pointed at me, so I did a little digging on the _Jump City Times_ online archive," he explained, handing it to her. "Turns out that my hunch was right; Thursday evening's edition had a big write-up on the whole scandal, but unfortunately the journalist who wrote it is a well-known rampant critic of superheroes in general, and particularly abhorring of Batman. At least half of the article was just one big jibe at him, saying that he was an… hang on…"

Robin tilted the printed-out article towards himself and scanned down it.

"Oh yeah, there it is… He called him "an unholy satanic incarnation who preys on man's greatest fear – that of the unknown". And basically he allegedly couldn't have been a very good influence on _me_, _soooo_…"

"What, ah…" Raven read the journalist's name; "What Hank Wallis is saying is that if you ever got a girl pregnant at such a young age, he wouldn't be surprised, because Batman probably told you that it was okay to just do whatever you liked because you were practically untouchable?"

Robin shrugged amiably.

"Pretty much. In fact, I'm sure it says somewhere in that article that I've probably gotten other girls pregnant too, but because they aren't "celebrities" like we are, nobody knows about it." He scratched his hairline thoughtfully. "Jeez, he must think that superheroes just sit around and crow over the people they save."

"Come to think of it, I've read stuff by that Wallis guy before," Raven realised, lifting her head. "He's the one that grilled us in the _Jump City Times_ for that mess-up down at the docks about three months back, right? He said we were incompetent children trying to do the work of the police because we thought we were special?"

"That's him, yeah."

"I didn't think journalists were allowed to be so opinionated," Raven said in disgust, glancing back down at Hank's article. "I mean, _this_… this is pretty much an _attack_."

"Doesn't matter. The article you just showed me shot him down big time. We don't have anything to worry about."

"How come he hasn't been fired by now? I mean, writing for the newspaper of a city _protected_ by superheroes…"

"He used to write for the _Daily Planet_, according to his profile on the _Jump City Times_ archive. Seems he criticised Superman just once too often… But I had a look at some of his archived articles and Batman seems to be the one who really gets to him. Seems only natural then that's he's not _my_ greatest fan either."

"So the real reason that nearly everyone voted for you was because of Hank Wallis? Because of this article?"

"I think it's safe to assume that he practically brainwashed people into voting for me, yes. I suppose, in a way, it's kind of like a crack at Batman…"

"Well, I suppose if you ever decide to run for President, you know of a good campaign manager…" She handed Robin the paper back and delved under her cloak again. "I did a little research of my own, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Raven held out her hand and opened her palm; on her pale skin, the ruby and platinum ring glittered in dim light of the dawn.

"What about it?" Robin asked.

"I figured out why you couldn't get it off."

Robin's interest was piqued.

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm. Turns out that Seth enchanted it so that anyone with any kind of human heritage couldn't take it off. So I couldn't take it off myself, being half-human, and you certainly couldn't take it off, being a full human, and although Cyborg and Beast Boy didn't try, they wouldn't have been able to get it off either…"

"But _Starfire_…" Robin took the ring from her hand and held it up. "Star hasn't got any human heritage at all, because she's Tamaranean."

"Right." Raven nodded. "Once again, Starfire beats the system."

"He had a _real_ issue with humans, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure _why_, but he really hated them… Or, well… mortals, at any rate…"

"So that was pretty much everyone?"

"Yeah. I suppose, being "dead", he wasn't exactly mortal himself, so…"

Robin pulled a face.

"Well, let's hope _he_ doesn't figure out how to invade people's dreams…"

"I don't think Seth will have that kind of freedom. Jonathon was a good person; Seth wasn't."

"You think he went to Hell?"

"Or… well, _whatever_. The equivalent of." Raven looked out at the brightening horizon; the faint sliver of sun casting a glittering sheen across the dark river. "I'm not really sure what is beyond this life. There is so much we don't understand; religion tries to offer answers, but they all contradict one another. Christianity, Islam and Judaism promise eternal peace in Heaven or eternal damnation Hell; but Buddhism and Hinduism believe in the cycle of rebirth and karma. Which of them is right? And if you reject them – if you _reject_ religion – and follow other paths; Wicca, Paganism… There are so many worlds and dimensions, each with their own beliefs and legends, out there. Truly, there is no way of knowing what awaits us. Are sinners like Seth _punished_ for their wrongs? Or—"

"Whoa." Robin held up his hands, stopping her in her tracks. "Jeez, sorry I asked…"

"It was a good question."

"And that was a scary answer."

"It was the best I could give. I know you think me knowledgeable, Robin, but I do not know everything. I perhaps do not even know as much as you _think_ I do."

"You try. _You try_. That's what matters. That's all we ask."

"And what about you?" Raven asked, focusing on the rising sun. "Your position? I assume you've taken back your vow to quit?"

"Obviously." He sighed. "I never really wanted to quit, I just… I was having a bad day that day. You know, the day we went to Azarath."

"I know you were having a bad day. I should think that having wings burst out of your back would sour up _anyone's_ day."

"And, if you remember, you guys locked me in the Operations Center because you wouldn't let me go on the mission—"

"That wasn't the _worst_ thing that happened to you that week."

"No, I think turning into a demon takes first place in _that_ category."

Raven gave a deep, sad sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Robin blinked.

"Why are _you_ sorry? None of this was your fault."

"If you had never met me-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." Robin looked down at his hands; beneath the fabric of his gloves, they were still stinging like hell. "The prophecy – the real prophecy – said that Seth needed mine and Slade's souls. And put it like this; if my parents hadn't died eight years ago, I wouldn't be Robin. I'd just be Dick Grayson; some high school kid back in Gotham. I never would have met you, that's for sure; hell, I wouldn't have met _any_ of you, and I wouldn't have met Bruce, and I wouldn't have met Slade. But that doesn't matter, because Seth needed my soul, and he needed Slade's soul, and he would have brought us together in the future anyway. I guess that my being Robin made it a lot easier for him, but I'm sure he'd have found a way around it. My being Robin doesn't change the fact that he needed my soul; wearing a mask doesn't change who I am inside. So this would have happened anyway, Raven. And you know, I still think he would have gotten around the conception of his child. You know, maybe he wouldn't have used _me_; maybe he'd have used one of the senators instead, seeing how you wouldn't have known me. Maybe Marcus, or Jonathon, or—"

"Ew." Raven cut him off with her hand. "Stop right there."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Your being a part of the team and my friend… that doesn't make any difference. None of this happened because of _you_, Raven; my fate wasn't sealed the day I met you. My fate was sealed by Azar over seven hundred years ago. And besides…"

He smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him.

"…You _saved_ me. More than once, I might add. I owe you my life about four times over."

"And you repaid that debt two nights ago, by destroying the child."

"That's hardly fair. You saved me from the demon, and from Seth, and I would have died from the injuries Slade gave me if you hadn't healed me. That's three times compared to only one. We aren't even."

"Well…" Raven actually offered him a little smile of her own. "Maybe you'll get another chance to save me someday. Or, if you _really_ want to make it up to me… you could make me some of your amazing French toast for breakfast…"

He grinned.

"Deal."

The sun was fairly rising now, and brilliant gold light washed over them both as they sat side by side on the roof of Titans Tower.

"There are a few things I wonder about," Robin said finally.

"Like what?"

"Terra."

Raven gave a barely-perceptible snort.

"What about her?"

Robin gave an offish shrug of his shoulders.

"What will happen to her, I guess."

Raven fixed her piercing gaze on him.

"Why do you care?"

"She was our friend-"

"And in case you didn't notice, Boy Wonder, she isn't anymore. She lied to us and betrayed us, let Slade's army into the Tower, helped Slade possess you with that demon, then helped us get it out for some strange reason, and then Slade sent her here to destroy the Tower, she fought Starfire and Beast Boy without any kind of remorse, and then she left you for dead in that mine. How can you still care what happens to her? Do you hope that she'll see the light?"

"Maybe." He sighed. "I know it's difficult for you to understand, Ray, especially as you never trusted her, but… I've seen her. A different Terra. A Terra truly repentant for her sins, a Terra alone and—"

"Thirty-one years old in an alternate future," Raven snapped. "Yes, I saw her too, Robin, remember? And I will admit that she was different. But that's just it; she was _different_. As in, a different person. She was an alternate persona – not _our_ Terra. Not the Terra who's out there now, doing Slade's bidding. I'm not talking about the "sorry" Terra; I'm talking about the psychotic one _we_ have to deal with."

"Beast Boy cares," Robin said softly.

Raven's expression became rather cold.

"Beast Boy is an idiot. He's too trusting. Love may be the most powerful emotion in the world, Robin – but it is blinding. He could never see the faults in Terra. And even now… if she was to turn up on our doorstep right now, he would welcome her into his arms. Even _Starfire_ is not that trusting, especially when a person has wronged her. But Beast Boy… he just keeps going back for more where Terra is concerned."

"He can't help it. He should, but he can't. Ray, he… he really likes her. I mean, he punched _me_ over her, remember? Even though I could knock him out if I hit him back. You're right, he is blind when it comes to her, but that isn't his fault. She was really the only person who has laughed _with_ him rather than _at_ him." Robin scratched his hair. "Face it; we're all guilty of mocking him or yelling at him at one time or another, even Star. But Terra never did."

Raven looked down at her lap.

"Robin, I do not sense a very happy ending for Terra," she said finally, her voice little more than a whisper. "And before you ask, I have no idea what that may be. I am not a precognitive. I can merely… _sense_ things."

"Then we have to _save_ her," Robin said, clenching his fist; and then wincing.

"I think it is too late for that now. The only person who can save Terra is Terra herself, and I do not think she is strong enough to do so. She never _has_ been – that's why she went to Slade in the first place. _Because she couldn't save herself_."

Raven took Robin's hands and pulled off his gloves in the silence that followed.

"Ray, what are you…?"

"Sshh." Raven unwrapped the bandages on his hands; and winced herself when she saw the burns. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, looking up at him.

Robin pulled his hands back.

"I'm not having you hurt yourself over a couple of burns."

"Robin, those are serious; and, incidentally, wrapping them up like that under your gloves is a very bad idea. They won't heal properly and the skin will split."

"That's my problem."

"It'll be _everyone's_ problem when it affects your martial arts. How do you expect to punch and fight with your staff with your hands wrecked like that?"

"They'll heal on their own."

"They won't; they're too severe." She put out her hands. "Come on, don't do something stupid for the sake of being noble. It only hurts me for a second. Which is infinitely better than having _those_ hurt _you_ for _weeks_."

"They're _fine_," he insisted, turning his head away.

Raven's gaze flickered up to him for a second or two; and then she looked back at his hands.

"Robin. Your hands. Please."

He ignored her for a second or two; and then, with an exaggerated sigh, he held them out, still not looking at her.

"Thankyou."

She muttered her archaic chant, drawing the wounds into her own body and dispelling the pain.

"Now I owe you for _four_ things," he muttered, taking his hands back and looking intently at his perfectly-healed palms.

"I'll give you that one for free, since you got them from the knife which you used to _save_ me."

"Gee, thanks…" He picked up his gloves and pulled them back on.

Raven rolled her eyes.

"You're welcome…"

Silence ensued again as they both looked out over the river; and at the fine blanket of glittering gold laid across it, cast from the rising sun.

"New beginning," Robin said finally, his voice very soft, as though he had been hoping she wouldn't hear him.

"How so?" Raven asked, hearing him perfectly. "The dawn?"

"Everything," he said quietly. "For the first time, Raven, neither of us are being controlled by some up-himself jerk for his own gains. For the first time… we truly _are_ free."

Raven didn't look at him.

"Yeah…" She didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"Doesn't that make you happy? Everything worked out… in the _end_, anyway… Seth isn't playing around with us like dolls, the baby is gone, we're all off the hook…"

She shrugged.

"It isn't over, you know…"

"What isn't?"

Raven shrugged again, this time more helplessly.

"Just… _everything_…"

"That's what Jonathon said."

"I know." She finally turned to him. "I know what Jonathon told you, because he told _me_."

Robin blinked.

"He visited you as well?"

"During meditation. I admit I was expecting it…" She looked hard at him, unblinking. "But I knew a lot of what he told you anyway. I noticed it myself…"

"And _that_ would be…?" Robin was strangely irritated; didn't anyone have anything better to do than study _him_?

"Robin, as Teen Titans, we are all outsiders; every one of us, under one roof. I'm… well, half-demon, among other things, Starfire is an alien, Beast Boy is green and Cyborg is half-metal…"

"And where do I fit in?"

"That's just it, Robin," Raven replied quietly. "You _don't_. You're an outcast among outcasts."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Thanks for the ego-trip, Raven-"

"Don't interrupt," Raven snapped wearily. "You must see what I'm saying; I _know_ you have often thought it yourself. You've asked yourself why you are here among us; why you _lead_ us, when you have no powers of your own. Admit that sometimes you feel a little bit left out; that sometimes you even feel a little envious and wish for powers of your own. I understand that it must be frustrating for you to watch your friends each display their own fantastic outworldly powers when you have to make do with nothing but skill you have had to train to achieve."

"Sometimes…" he muttered.

"Sometimes you think yourself unworthy of your place in the team; you ask yourself why we listen to you when we are all so much stronger than you…"

"Raven, if you're trying to make me seriously depressed, it's working…"

"I'm not. I'm only telling the truth. And I _am_, aren't I?"

He looked up at her.

"Yes."

"And you were brought into this world of superheroics by Batman; named the World's Greatest Detective, Gotham's Finest… He trained you to be the best, he taught you – and maybe even wrongly – that it isn't okay to lose. Because Batman never _does_ lose, does he?"

Robin shook his head.

"No, he doesn't…"

Raven pushed a lock of violet hair back.

"That can't be an easy mantle to uphold; and admit it, Robin. You _do_ feel as though you have something to live up to. Every time you lose, you feel as though you are letting him down. That whole business with Slade all those months back, when you became obsessed with him? Why _was_ that?"

"Jeez, what are you, some kind of shrink?" Robin asked grouchily.

"_Tell_ me, Robin. Or rather, _don't_, because _I_ can tell _you_. Because you knew that _Batman_ wouldn't lose to Slade…"

"That's the way he trained me," Robin replied snippily. "To never give up. I told you that, remember? Back in… well, the future, if that makes any sense… I'm sorry if it's not in my nature to be a slacker."

"That's not what I said. You are a very hard worker and we are all glad. But you _are_ too hard on yourself. You can't be perfect. And you have to stop comparing yourself to Batman, because it isn't a fair comparison. You're only sixteen – he's, what…? Thirty-something?"

Robin nodded; and then he aborted that motion and began shaking it instead.

"Raven, what are you _saying_?"

"The same thing Jonathon tried to tell you." She looked at him pointedly. "All this time, Robin; despite what you may believe, way down deep inside, you still think of yourself as someone's sidekick. The third wheel on the bike. And even when you went out on your own, you compared yourself to _us_, when you shouldn't. All around you, you've been searching for some kind of hero – some kind of strength beyond what you are. Within you, there _are_ elements of Batman, because Robin… those are your _roots_. Batman and Robin – it's part of who you are. But it's not the whole person; I _know_ there is something behind that mask, because I have _seen_ it, in every way imaginable. I think that if you look deep inside yourself…"

She took his hands the way Jonathon had, pressing them together; she muttered a few words and then parted his hands again.

And, as it had happened in his dream, a shimmering stream of physical magic fluttered out.

Not bats.

Butterflies.

"…You'll find _you're_ the hero you've been searching for all along…"

He watched them go.

And then he hugged her.

It took her a while to respond, but eventually she hugged him back.

"I love you, Ray," he said softly.

"I love you too." She pulled back a little bit. "But I don't want to sleep with you."

"Even if I bring Bat-condoms?"

"Even then."

"Okay."

They embraced again.

And then it was his turn to pull away.

"_Butterflies_?"

Raven looked at him boredly.

"If you must know, bats are very tricky to do. Butterflies are a lot easier…"

"Sorry."

They couldn't seem to let go of one another; as though there was a magnetic pulse between them, and they kept embracing, because it felt right to do so.

"Ray…"

"Mm?"

"When… when we were in the church, in the future… You said about… like, that I knew things that I _shouldn't_."

"You do." Raven said it into his shoulder. "But we have been through so much, and Seth… well, he tried to tie two prophecies together, so I couldn't expect you to know… _nothing_."

"You said… you couldn't tell me. That you had a destiny that you wouldn't wish on anyone else, but you couldn't tell me, and you couldn't… You said I couldn't _help_ you…"

"You can't." She looked up, but out across the horizon rather than at him. "You will know. You will _all_ know. But help…?"

"I _will_ help you, Raven. Please…" He made her look at him; and the gold of the dawn shone across his face as though he had a halo over his head. "We _have_ been through so much together. I care so much about you, and… I _will_ help you. That's a _promise_."

Raven looked at him long and hard in the face of the rising sun.

Finally she touched his cheek.

"_Maybe you will_," she said softly.

She drew away from him with a little smile and they sat again in silence; after a few moments, the doorway up onto the roof opened and they both turned to acknowledge the new arrival.

Starfire stopped when she saw them together.

Her smile flickered slightly.

"Oh, I apologise for my interruption…"

She turned away to go back the way she had come.

"No, Star, wait!" Robin called after her desperately.

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Well…" He patted the roof beside him as he had done to Raven. "You weren't interrupting anything, and you don't have to leave. Come and sit with us."

She hesitated, looking from one to the other and then back again; as though she maybe even suspected that they were playing some kind of joke on her.

"You… desire my company?"

Robin smiled at her.

"Always."

She smiled then; and floated to join them, sitting on Robin's other side so that he was sandwiched between them.

And the three of them sat in silence as rays of gold washed over their bodies and the cool, fresh morning wind played with their hair.

Twice, Starfire opened her mouth, but no words came, and she fell silent again.

"Something you want to say, Star?" Robin asked casually, stealing a glance at her.

Starfire gave a sweet little smile and shook her head.

"It was nothing…"

Robin opened his mouth to reply—

"A threesome? Well, _Robin_, I never realised you were into such kinky things!"

Only Starfire turned towards the source of this accusation; Robin and Raven didn't even look.

Beast Boy and Cyborg had decided to join them, and Beast Boy was wagging a mockingly-reproachful finger.

"Oh, there is _so_ much you don't know about me," Robin replied airily, pretending to examine his fingernails even though he was wearing gloves.

"Figured that," Cyborg answered as he and Beast Boy plonked themselves down next to Starfire; so that the five of them were sitting in a row. "What I wanna know is why BB an' me weren't invited, yo."

"Because it wouldn't be a _threesome_ then, would it?" Robin responded scathingly.

"Ah, details, details…"

Starfire giggled; and they all had a pretty good idea that she didn't even know what a threesome was.

Or then again…

You just couldn't tell with Starfire.

"Isn't that the greatest view?" Beast Boy said finally, the utterance not really a question.

He pointed out to the horizon, then slowly let his arm drop. The sun was now a semi-circle of gold above the sparkling water, and the light glinted off the mirrored windows of the high-rises and skyscrapers of Jump City.

"It's pretty breathtaking," Robin agreed.

"Aw, we got the best island on the river," Cyborg put in cheerfully.

"It's the _only_ island on the river," Raven pointed out flatly.

"Yeah, and it's _ours_…"

Raven rolled her eyes.

"My friends, I agree; this sight is truly glorious," Starfire said, clasping her hands. "This world is so beautiful and I am both jubilant and proud to call it my home. For every hideous thing, there is something of beauty; for everything evil, there is something good and virtuous; and for every terrible thing that happens, there is love and hope to help pull through…"

She smiled at each of them; and in this contagious mood and moment of close-knit friendship and team spirit, they each returned it.

"I only express my joy to be here now with you, my very dear friends, to greet another beautiful day…"

"Right back at you, Star," Cyborg said softly.

"Well said," Beast Boy added with a grin.

Raven gave her a little nod.

Turning to Robin, her green eyes met with his masked ones.

He said nothing.

Only smiled truly and sincerely.

And that smile promised all of the sunrise and so much _more_.

It promised _everything_.

As the Teen Titans sat together on the roof of their tower, overlooking the city which they were sworn to protect, Richard Grayson's smile promised everything above and beyond infinity.

Hidden heroes.

Strength. Hope. Love. Dreams. Friendship. Victory.

Because they were all in this together, for better or worse; they were a _team_.

_Forevermore_.

* * *

It's quite hilariously sappy, non?

Not that _Teen Titans_ didn't occasionally dander off down this road during its run…

Seems like the end… and it _would_ have been, I guess, were it not for a certain blonde earthmover.

Stay tuned, because there's one more chapter—

And one more twist.

:)

RobinRocks xXx

(Hurrah for Season 4 foreshadowing!!111!!11!)


	42. Mini chapter: Terra's Fate

_As the empath had predicted, great tragedy befell the geomancer called Terra._

_She swore her allegiance to one who had promised to save her; but in reality could only **destroy** her._

_Believing she owed him, she vowed to destroy those who had once been her friends. _

_The boy who loved her; and who, deep down inside her, she felt that same love for._

_Blinding herself to it, even Beast Boy had not been spared her burst of spiteful wrath; in which she had picked off each Titan, one by one._

_First Raven, whom she had always hated the most, because Raven had not trusted her when she had offered the timid hand of friendship._

_Then Starfire, whose sunny demeanour, looks and confidence she had always secretly both despised and envied._

_Then Cyborg; and with him, Beast Boy – and oh, such cruel words had spilled from her lips. _

_("…Hope you're not expecting a goodbye kiss…")_

_Such lies, crushing her **true** feelings to ease the pain._

_Ironically, Robin had been the last; the first apprentice in a face-off against the second._

_The first by blackmail; the second by trickery, lullings of false security._

_He had pleaded with her; not for his life, as maybe she had been expecting, but to allow him to help her._

_Right up until the last, he had told her again and again that she could save herself._

_Perhaps he was trying to see the other Terra in her; the Terra of an alternate future, who had saved herself. _

_Who had clawed her way back of the abyss._

_For **this** Terra, retribution **did** come._

_But, true to the prediction of Trigon's daughter, it was tragic._

_In the final face-off, the earth-mover shed Slade's control over her; turning her fantastic and terrible power upon him._

_And while the earth cried and bled – molten magma bubbling through rips in the Earth's very skin – she destroyed him. _

_Threw him to Hell in all meanings of the phrase._

_They left her there at her own request; because no-one but her could undo the damage._

_She embraced the boy she loved one last time; and took one last look at the first, last and **only** friends she had ever had._

_She drew all her power within her; and it broke her._

_**She screamed**._

_And then there was silence._

_She never knew her **true**, darker purpose._

_All that was left was a stone angel._

_She was her own gravestone._

_A sinner for all the world to see._


	43. Written in Stone

Oh. Em. Gee.

This is it. The last chapter of _Remember the Titans_ – and the last chapter of the entire trilogy.

What a ride it's been. O.o

Thankyou to: **DragonPrincess1988 **(Batman out of character? Depends on which Batman you're talking about. From Adam West to Tim Burton's Michael Keaton to the Kevin Conroy-voiced animated version, there's a lot of Batman out there…); **LoopyLouise123 **(nyes, there certainly _is_ Terra… And the Titans probably _would_ have talked about threesomes if not for their prime-time Cartoon Network slot…); **Me **(how many more twists can this story have? One more.); **YamiTai **(oh, don't be ashamed, Jonathon-Vaughan's-Biggest-Fan! You're one of my longest-standing readers/reviewers!); **Quinn and His Quill **(_you're_ physically tired out by this? How do you think _I_ feel, Quinny?!); **TheFallenAngel67 **(ha, no, it's okay that you didn't write "OMG-SO-SUPER-SPECIAL-AWESOME!!1111!!11!" in your review… Be _happy_ that _RTT_ is ending – I am!); **Guardian of Azarath **(well, if Raven doesn't lecture Robin about how much of a dumbass he is, who will? :D); **SylverEyes **(well, yeah, I felt that last chapter needed the whole team in it rather than just Robin, Raven and poor piggy-in-the-middle Star… You are welcome to steal "Bat-condoms", BTW. XP); **The Fate of an Amaryllis **(I don't think I _did_ kill off the Joker, now that I think about it… I'm sure Slade just knocked him out. Ha, your "Keep it up, Dick!" joke reminds me of an in-joke between Narroch and myself – "I can't get it up!"… referring to an inability to post something up to FFNet when it's being retarded…); **Simmie **(yes, another twist. Because I'm mean like that…);and **IVIaedhros **(yes, you're perfectly correct – that is _exactly_ why superheroes should not rut before they hang up the tights.)!

In truth, I've been leading you all around. I remember saying, a very long time, in response to the complaints of more than one Terra-hater, that, in a way, Terra was in fact the most important character in the entire trilogy.

I wasn't lying.

:)

Written in Stone

"I figured I'd find you down here…"

Beast Boy looked up in surprise as Robin's voice broke the tranquil silence of the rocky cavern in which he stood.

"Hey, Robin…" Beast Boy shot him a quizzical look. "What are _you_ doing down here?"

"Didn't know I wasn't allowed."

"It's not that, it's just…" Beast Boy shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound… It's just not like you, is all…"

"Beast Boy, she's only been gone for a week. You're the only one who comes here everyday, but that doesn't mean-"

"That doesn't mean you don't care, I know, I know…" Beast Boy sighed. "And it's been a week and two days."

"Sorry…"

The two boys stood side by side and looked up at her; the girl who had been their great friend, and their greater enemy.

At _her_; Terra.

She still stood frozen in the stance in which she had released the last of her power; her parting gift to a world she had sought to destroy.

Her arms spread wide, her legs apart and braced, her hair whipping around her face.

Every detail of her captured as though she had been carved by the most skilled sculptor.

The rock on which she had stood had formed a pedestal; and to this, Beast Boy had attached a little metal plaque.

**TERRA**

A TEEN TITAN

A TRUE FRIEND

Robin read it off now and was reminded of the little plaques that the Bruce of the devastated future world had placed beneath the _objet d'arts_ of his dead team-mates he had been able to gather.

"I keep thinking," Beast Boy said softly, "that we could have _saved_ her. If only we'd tried harder-"

"Terra didn't want to be saved, Beast Boy. Trust me on that one…"

Beast Boy shook his head.

"Then what _did_ she want? We gave her everything she could possibly—"

"I think… she just wanted to be liked for who she was," Robin interrupted quietly, basing his opinion on what he had learned of the _other_ Terra. "To not be judged for all the things she had done…"

"But we _did_!" Beast Boy argued. "We did like her, and we trusted her, and-"

"Did we?" Robin felt guilty now. "No, we didn't, Beast Boy. Not _all_ of us. _I_ didn't always trust her entirely, and _Raven_…"

Beast Boy looked long and hard at the petrified blonde.

"And, as usual, you and Raven were right," he said, not without a little bitterness.

"It's not something we gloat over…"

"I'm not saying that, it's just…" Beast Boy's pointed ears flicked. "…It's _hard_. Because I trusted her more than I've ever trusted anyone, and I never believed she could do such terrible things, and…"

"None of us did, Beast Boy. Even Raven and I never thought she could… attempt to _kill_ us…"

Beast Boy put his head in his hands.

"She was so messed up… I never realised while… but she _was_, she just couldn't see that we…"

"She was misunderstood, that much is for certain," Robin said quietly. "Nobody could understand how desperate she felt every time she lost control of her powers. The only person she could ever really relate to was Raven…"

"And Raven turned her away," Beast Boy finished sadly. "Do you think that if Raven hadn't—"

"You can't blame Raven for this, Beast Boy."

"I know…" Beast Boy sighed heavily. "But do you think everything might have turned differently, if only…?"

If only _what_?

Robin shrugged hopelessly.

"I don't know, Beast Boy…"

Beast Boy was silent for a while.

"I won't _ever_ forget her…"

"None of us will."

"No." Beast Boy turned his gaze on the Boy Wonder. "No, I mean it. It's okay for you to say that, because she was our friend and all, but I _mean_ it. I will _never_ forget her, for as long as I live…"

"You may not have to," Robin replied quietly. "She's gone, but not… _dead_… This happened because of her powers; and there must be some way to reverse the effect. I'm sure… S.T.A.R Labs, or maybe even Wayne Enterprises… well, there _will_ be a cure for her. I don't know how long it will be, but…"

Beast Boy shot him a weak little smile.

"Thanks, dude…"

"I mean it."

"I know."

Beast Boy looked up at her again; stone carving of a prodigal phantasm.

"Do you think it hurt her?"

Robin didn't know how to answer that one, so simply replied with;

"I hope not…"

"Me too…"

But it was not Beast Boy who answered; the voice was Cyborg's.

Robin and Beast Boy both turned to him; he was coming down into the cavern via the tunnel, Starfire in tow.

Cyborg and Starfire stopped when they reached their team-mates, both looking up at the stone blonde.

"Poor kid," Cyborg said finally. "It's tragic that she thought the only way to turn was to Slade…"

Beast Boy clenched his fists.

"I _hate_ him," he hissed.

"_Welcome to my world_…" Robin muttered.

Starfire floated up to Terra's level, looking forlornly at her.

"I am so sorry for her," she whispered, touching the girl's stone cheek. "She was so strong, so gifted…"

"That was her problem, Star," Cyborg said in a low voice. "She was gifted with a power she didn't want and couldn't control…"

Robin looked down at his own hands on that note; remembering the time they had battled in the mine, just days before he had been possessed.

He had looked at her; watched her eyes glow and seen the very earth _bend_ to her will.

And he had _envied_ her.

And she… she had looked at _him_; stared him up and down, the action devoid of sexuality.

And _she_ had envied _him_.

He did not envy her now.

"…Anyway, we were thinking about heading down to the pizza place," Cyborg said, cutting into his thoughts. "Well, Star's idea. BB? Robbie? You up for it?"

"Yeah," Beast Boy replied quietly.

"Yes, we shall have a pizza in the honour of our friend Terra," Starfire decided, landing next to them again.

Beast Boy gave a weak little smile and looked up at the frozen girl.

"She'd like that…"

Cyborg threw his arm around Beast Boy's shoulders.

"Then let's go. Robin? You coming?"

"Yeah, but I'll catch you up," Robin replied.

"You're staying here?" Beast Boy asked, sounding surprised.

"Just for a minute. You go. I have my bike outside, I'll meet you there…"

Cyborg shot him a quizzical look, then shrugged.

"Alright, man… You just take it easy. No stressing out looking for remains of Slade down here, okay?"

Robin pulled a face.

"Too much info, Cy…"

"You know what I mean…"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"You seen Raven, by the way?" Cyborg asked.

"No." Robin pulled out his communicator. "I'll call her."

"Okay."

The Boy Wonder and the tall cybernetic teen bumped fists.

"Catch you in ten," Cyborg said casually, walking out of the tunnel with a little wave of his hand.

Beast Boy gave Robin a little glance, then looked at Terra again.

"It's okay, BB," Robin reassured him. "You go on…"

Beast Boy nodded and followed Cyborg out of the cavern.

"You are certain you do not desire us to wait for you?" Starfire asked, turning to Robin.

Robin nodded.

"Positive. Really, I'll be with you in a moment, Star…"

"Alright…"

Starfire gave him a hug; then planted a quick, tiny kiss on his cheek before he could stop her and flew out without a backwards glance.

Robin stared after her, his hand on his cheek.

He was alone for barely a minute when he suddenly felt a shadow fall across him.

In an instant he whipped around, his hand snapping outwards in one fluid chopping motion—

Raven stopped his flat hand from breaking her neck with a barrier of black energy.

Robin stared at her; then withdrew his hand.

"Sorry, Raven…"

Raven raised her eyebrows.

"What, did you think I was Slade?"

Robin scowled.

"You know, it wouldn't have surprised me…"

Raven looked long and hard at him.

"You don't believe he's gone, do you?"

Robin sighed.

"I don't know. I wish I _could_. But I don't—"

"It's okay. I'm not so sure about it myself…"

Raven swept past him to stand at the foot of the petrified geomancer's pedestal.

"Why are you down here, anyway?" Robin asked, joining her.

"Same reason you are."

"I'm paying my final respects…"

"No you aren't!" Raven snapped. "Don't feign ignorance, Robin. I know why you're down here…"

"Well, _here's_ an idea," Robin replied snippily. "How about you tell me why _you're_ down here, and we'll compare notes and see if your reason matches mine."

"Fine." Raven looked over her shoulder at him, pulling her hood down as she spoke. "I'm down here because I've finally worked out the prophecy. The _true_ prophecy; Seth's one. And that's why you're down here too, right?"

Robin stared at her.

And then, finally, he went to his belt and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

"Yeah," he said shakily, handing it to her.

Opening it, she found written on it, in Robin's neat printing, the real prophecy, word for word;

'_When the very Earth itself bleeds; _

_When vows and promises are broken; _

_When apprentice shall turn on master;_

_When such love is the cause, and promise, of a sacrifice for another;_

_When Said Duplicate Souls are merged with a power beyond a mortal capability;_

_Only then shall the power within be unleashed, bore by its rightful owner;_

_Only then shall tyranny reign once more…'_

"Where did you get this?" Raven asked him, reading through it.

"Just wrote it down off the top of my head," Robin replied. "I did it the day after we got back from the future… uh, movie reference not intended…"

Raven looked at it again.

"You have a very good memory," she admitted finally.

"Thanks. But…" Robin scratched his hair. "Seriously, Raven, you've figured it out too?"

Raven nodded, looking from the prophecy to Robin and then finally to Terra.

"It's ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?" Robin inquired.

"_This_." Raven allowed herself a tiny amused smile. "He got the wrong one…"

She looked up at Terra's self-made statue.

"…He got the _wrong damn apprentice_…"

Robin gave a little smile.

"Yeah… I wonder how everything would have turned out if…"

"Let's not think about it," Raven replied coolly as he trailed off.

"You wouldn't have gotten pregnant," the Boy Wonder pointed out.

"True." Raven looked from the paper to Terra and then back again. "You know, I really do wonder how he got it all so wrong…"

"It _does_ fit me, sort of…"

"Yeah, but not as well as it fits _Terra_. And let's face it; if it was always meant for _her_, and not _you_, that's only logical."

"Mm." Robin nodded again and tilted the sheet towards himself. "Well, let's see… "_When vows and promises are broken, when apprentice shall turn on master, when such love is the cause, and promise, of a sacrifice for another…"_ Seth said that I fitted those three premises in that I broke my vow to Batman when I became Red X and joined Slade, and then I betrayed Slade, and… well, he intended me to die in the portal to save you, so I would have fulfilled the third premise."

"Right," Raven agreed. "It's a little tenuous, but you can see how he got a little mixed up…"

"But the one he wanted all along… wasn't _me_." He took a deep breath. "It was _Terra_."

"Yes."

"When did you figure it out?"

"Just last night…"

Robin blinked.

"Hey, me too!"

Raven offered him a wry smile.

"Brilliant minds think alike…"

"…And fools never differ," Robin finished dryly.

He looked up at Terra again.

"It really does fit her…"

"It was _written_ for her."

"Yeah…" Robin folded his arms. "Well, there were four premises, actually, and the first… _"When the very Earth itself bleeds"…_ Her powers triggered a volcano, and the lava… like the Earth was bleeding…"

"Yes, he overlooked that one with you."

"Because it didn't _fit_. And she made a vow to Slade to serve him, and then she broke it…"

"Premise two in her case," Raven agreed. "Go on."

"You know."

"Say it anyway. Just so I can be sure…"

"Well, she _did_ turn on him, didn't she? She said that he couldn't control her anymore, said… well, she threw him…"

"Yeah… So that's the third premise; "apprentice shall turn on master"…"

"And premise four… she fulfilled that too. She sacrificed herself… for _us_. For Beast Boy. Because she _loved_ him."

Raven actually smiled.

"I never really liked her," she admitted, "because I just couldn't trust her. But she… she was brave. I will give her that… She knew she would never survive, and yet she still gave her life to undo the damage she had wrought."

"It _is_ ironic, isn't it?"

"Hm?"

"That if Seth…" Robin sighed. "If only he had _waited_… if only he had just let things play out on their own… his prophecy _would_ have been fulfilled. He… controlled me my whole life, and he… he never needed to…"

He looked at her.

"Funny, huh?" He said, his voice a little sad. "First, I thought I was the "Avenger" – some kind of warrior born to save the world. And then it turned out to all be a lie, and yet… I was still _needed_. The only reason Seth had made up all those lies and fake prophecies and premises… was because he thought he needed my soul to fulfil the _real_ prophecy. But he _didn't_, because I… I was never the one that prophecy _meant_. It was never _me_ and Slade; it was Slade and _Terra_…"

"Gee, don't beat yourself up over it," Raven put in blithely, her voice low.

"And it's strange," Robin went on forlornly, ignoring her, "because when we were in the future, I remember… the other Terra saying that she couldn't believe she had been staring Seth in the face the entire time, because Seth disguised himself as the seer to trick Slade, and… well, Seth… _he_ was staring _her_ in the face the entire time. _Terra_ was the one he needed, and she… she was there the whole time, and he never realised because he was too busy chasing _me_…"

"Seth had a very high opinion of himself," Raven put in, "but he was never really as clever as he gave himself credit for."

"But it's just so…" Robin socked his fist into his palm. "It just feels like we wasted our time… Because the prophecy was fulfilled anyway, only Seth wasn't around to know about it, and I destroyed the orb of _this_ time… But if only he'd realised, and kept a low profile, he would have gotten his power back, because when Terra sacrificed herself…"

"Robin, let's be very _glad_ he got it wrong, because if he'd kept quiet about it, we wouldn't have stopped him…"

"But _god_, Raven…!" Robin pulled at his hair in utter frustration. "Everything he did…! Everything he _did_ to me, all the things…"

He turned on her, still tugging at his ebony spikes.

"He made Slade _rape_ me! And it's something… something that still frightens me whenever I think about it, and something… I still have nightmares about sometimes… I just have to hear the name "Arkham" and my skin goes cold…"

He looked away, shaking his head.

"…And it was all for _nothing_. I always felt so terrible, thinking it had been done for a reason, but this… _this_ is worse, knowing that there was no _need_ for it… That if only he hadn't mixed me up with Terra, I wouldn't… _he wouldn't have raped me_…"

He finished the utterance in a very small voice and Raven put her hand on his shoulder; he looked up at her sadly.

"_None_ of it would have happened," he went on; "He needed me to have been raped so that the demon would be able to have greater control over me, and he only needed _that_ so that _you_ would become pregnant with his child. And the only reason he could _use_ me like that… is because I'm a _boy_. If he gotten it _right_, and realised it was _Terra_… well, she wouldn't have been raped and possessed, because Seth couldn't have used _her_ to impregnate you as she's another girl. And maybe… if we hadn't gone to Azarath, maybe Jonathon wouldn't have died, and maybe—"

"Shh." Raven put her fingers to his lips to silence him. "It's no good thinking like this, Robin. What happened _did_ happen; we cannot change it. It is unfortunate that everything that has happened was based on a mistake, but perhaps it was a _good_ thing too. We have suffered for it, Robin; I do not deny it, and you have suffered perhaps _more_ than I have. But the point is that if Seth _had_ realised it was Terra he needed, and _had_ kept quiet about it, knowing he just had to wait for everything to play itself out… We would never have been able to stop him. By now, he'd have murdered the Senate, enslaved Azarath and probably the Earth… But because he tried to control too much, because he was so confident that he let everyone see his cards, because he tried to be a _god_… We _defeated_ him. "

"Yeah…" Robin sighed as she took her fingers from his mouth, and looked up at the ceiling of the cavern. "But…"

"But what?"

Robin rubbed at his eyes with his hands, exhaling deeply again. He gave a little groan.

"Oh god… I never told anyone…"

"You never told anyone _what_?"

"Just this… Remember when we… in the church, you asked if I was keeping something to myself, and… I said I wasn't, because…"

"_Because_…?"

"Because it makes me sick."

Raven looked at him in surprise.

"It makes you sick? _What_ makes you sick?"

"I…"

He tried to turn away and she held him still.

"Robin. Tell me. Please."

"It's nothing…"

"Don't chicken out. Talking helps," Raven pleaded. "Come on… I have felt that something has been troubling you for a while now. If I can help, please…"

"I just… Seth… you know he could control wills, he, uh… he…" Robin floundered.

"Robin! Just _say_ it!" Raven cried in exasperation.

"_Ikissedhim_," Robin said quietly, uttering it so quickly it all became one word.

Raven blinked at him.

"You kissed _Seth_?"

"_No_!" Robin snapped, agonized. "No, you know… it doesn't even _matter_—"

"Oh." Raven's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "_Slade_."

He didn't blush; he didn't even answer.

He only looked away.

"You kissed Slade. The night he raped you," Raven reinstated.

"It was… mutual."

"He kissed back?"

"He _started_ it."

"Oh," Raven said again. "Um… you..."

"Don't."

"No, I… You mentioned Seth?"

"He controlled us. He made us do it."

"_Why_?"

Robin shrugged and gazed intently at the floor.

"Because… he said he… found it funny…"

"He _watched_?" Raven was aghast.

"Yeah… the whole thing…"

"_Azar_…"

Robin gave another miserable shrug.

"He said he had to make sure… that Slade…"

"I can imagine." Raven clasped her hands around his. "Robin, I'm… _so sorry_…"

"It's not your fault."

"It's not _yours_ either," Raven replied firmly. "And please don't think for one moment that it _is_. Seth sought to destroy you in all kinds of ways; physically, mentally… And while I am sorry for you, I am also _happy_ for you, because you are the one left standing. For everything he did to you… he did not _break_ you. He did not _destroy_ you as he intended."

"And Slade?"

Their eyes met, the gaze – violet meeting azure – intense and unwavering.

"I don't know," Raven said finally, still clasping Robin's gloved hands in her own. "Like you, I would _like_ to believe that he is gone. I wish I _could_ be satisfied with the fact that Terra threw him into the lava. But not a trace of him as been found so far, and so…"

"…We just don't know," Robin finished wearily. "Raven, about… that night in Arkham, with me and Slade… please don't tell anyone."

"Not even at gunpoint."

Robin offered her a wan smile.

"A gun couldn't hurt you, Ray, but thanks anyway…"

"You're okay about it…?"

"No. Like I said, it makes me feel sick. In fact, I _was_ sick in one of the sinks in Arkham… But I do feel a little better about it now…"

"I don't condemn you for it, you know."

"Well, it wasn't something either of us wanted to do," Robin replied softly. He looked at her firmly. "But _would_ you? If I had _wanted_ to? If Seth hadn't been controlling us, and I…? _Would_ you condemn me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. Why would it?"

Robin shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess it doesn't. But I'm not."

"You're not what?"

"You know…" He looked at the ground. "…_Gay_…" he muttered.

"I know." She squeezed his shoulder. "You seem confused about all of this, you know…"

"I'm not confused about my sexuality, if that's what you mean."

"It isn't. It's just… you seem so… _uncertain_ about everything that's happened. Like you don't know how you should feel."

"I'm not sure I _do_."

"Well…"Raven frowned. "How _do_ you feel?"

He blinked.

"How do I feel?"

"Yes."

"Well… it alternates. I feel happy that everything is sorted out, and then angry that I was used, and then sorry for everything I did to you, and then so _wretched_ when I remember what Slade… _did to me_…" He looked at her. "How do you _think_ I should feel?"

Raven was very silent for a while.

"_Exactly like that, I guess_," she replied finally. "So much has happened this past month… well, this _year_… I couldn't expect you to just be cool about everything. All those different emotions show that you are coping with all the different aspects of what you've been through. And I think… it will make you _stronger_."

He took his hands from hers and looked at them intently.

"I hope so…"

"Robin, even if you believe in nothing else, you should always believe in _yourself_."

"And we're back to cereal box dialogue, huh?"

"If it makes you feel better…"

He smiled.

"Somehow, when _you_ say it, it _does_. And speaking of things you've said…" Robin looked at Terra. "…I guess _this_ is the unhappy ending you foresaw for her?"

"I did not know she would turn to stone. But yes, I did know that she would not redeem and rejoin us…"

"Do think this is punishment or a mercy?"

"Perhaps a little of both," Raven replied thoughtfully. "I would like to think that, although I didn't like her very much, she is at least at peace now. She was a very tormented person, if nothing else…"

"I remember," Robin whispered, "when we left the future… Terra – the older one – she said… that "nothing is written in stone", meaning that we could change our past. Or present, or whatever…"

"And we did. She was right. So what?"

"Don't you see?" Robin looked from Raven to Terra and then back again. "Some things _are_ written in stone. Terra's destiny always was. And here it _is_."

He tapped Terra's stone leg, listening to the dull solid sound his finger created.

"Terra," he said quietly. "She was born to fulfil a prophecy carved from _stone_; a prophecy that promised the powers of a terrible being, which were sealed in a _stone_ orb; her powers were to move the earth and manipulate _stone_. Her name means earth, land, _stone_. And in her final retribution… she _turned_ to _stone_. Maybe not everything is written in stone, but _Terra_ is."

He gazed long and hard at Raven.

"She always _was_."

"Tenuous."

"But true."

Raven smiled.

"Maybe…"

There was silence between them for a few moments.

"Come on," Robin said softly. "Let's catch the others up…"

Raven nodded and together they made for the exit of the cavern.

At the mouth of it, Raven stopped again.

"What?" Robin asked.

Raven looked back at Terra; prostate on her pedestal, a pewter plaque bearing her legend.

"…What do you think her last thought was?" Raven asked softly.

Robin thought for a moment.

"_Hope_," he said finally.

Raven looked at the Boy Wonder.

"Hope for _what_? She knew that she…"

"Hope that we would forgive her for everything she had done. Hope that we would not think of her as our enemy, but as our friend. Hope… that we would _remember_ her."

Raven looked at the plaque Beast Boy had left there.

_Terra. A Teen Titan. A true friend_.

"She will be remembered," she said finally.

"With _us_," Robin added quietly. "As a Titan."

"Remembered as _gods_," Raven mused, her voice a little bitter.

"The Titans were never gods, Raven…" Robin replied as they began to walk again.

Through carved stone catacombs, wrought from solidified molten lava.

Carved by _her_.

They left her alone in the dark with her legend; petrified, arms out to embrace a world that had rejected her.

Ignorant of the destiny that had been stolen from her; she, Terra, had been born _something_.

Not an Avenger. Not a saviour; not a warrior.

Not a god.

But _something_.

She would be remembered.

In a distant future, the Teen Titans had died at her hand.

In this time, she had sacrificed _her_ life for _theirs_.

So many things had been changed; so many things written and rewritten.

So many things gained; and so many things _lost_.

So many things that, for the Teen Titans, would never be the same again.

The child of the Batman had rewritten history.

The child of the demon Trigon had conceived and carried a demon child of her own; and had yet to fulfil her _own_ destiny.

And the child of the Earth was nothing more than what she had ruled.

What she had _wrought_.

It was true; nothing was written in stone.

Nothing but the one they had called Terra; who had always seemed so unimportant, so _worthless_.

Just another girl.

Nothing but _her_.

**END**

* * *

And herein, my friends, we reach the end of _Remember the Titans_ – which is, alone, almost 300, 000 words. Add to this the additional 100, 000+ words of _Asylum_ and the 200, 000+ words of _Black Magic_, and you guys…

Well, you've put up with a _lot_.

:)

Rather than bore you here, I decided to post up another "chapter" after this, expressing my gratitude to all of you who have reached this final milestone.

Seeing as it's highly unlikely that I'll ever make it to the Oscars, it's the next best thing.

RobinRocks xXx


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